


Graceless

by AngelicSociopath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Destiel - Freeform, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Smut, Social Anxiety, Tangled (2010) References, Tangled AU, Wingfic, hell hound, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:06:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicSociopath/pseuds/AngelicSociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is an angel who dreams of adventure beyond the tower he's lived in his whole life. Dean lives the family business as a thief with too much adventure to keep to himself. When worlds collide, they both find that they've fallen a little more into something else than from the tower that kept them apart.<br/>Based on the Disney movie Tangled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stars

 

Stars.

They were all that mattered to him. He was so small compared to them, but filled with dreams larger than the stars could ever carry. A sigh escaped his lips as he rested his head on the windowsill, blue eyes filled with wonder as they traveled the night sky. Any moment now.

 

His wings began flapping erratically in excitement and he bounced up and down on his barefoot toes. There it was, and he gasped at the beauty. The dark was now light, the sky illuminated a bright blue. Stars that once covered the sky above were now covered by the floating lights. Their lights blended together, sparkling in a stream of blue clouds that the breeze blew upward. The little angel's eyes widened, mouth gaping. He ceased movement, his mind and soul being engulfed by the magic twinkling a reflection in his deep blue eyes. Of all his short eight years of life, the most wondrous memories were made here, standing on the tips of his toes to watch the lights, his heart nearly stopping every time. But this year...this year was different. The lights, they seemed to travel differently. The wind blew near the tower this time, so when the angel saw a particular blue light falling from the windowsill just above him, he almost stopped completely. With a small outstretched hand, a large glass bubble landed in his palm. His brows furrowed in confusion as he focused on was inside: a small, white feather, with the blue light swimming around it, holding the bubble up. His breath escaped him, and with one last glance, he gently lifted it back into the sky. It slowly joined the rest, gracefully floating upwards, and the small angel sighed once again, his eyes wandering with them along the night sky. He stepped away from the windowsill, his wings wrapping around him in a blanket of black feathers, and he spun around, spreading them. He nearly tripped on his white wrap robes in doing so, and flopped backwards on his bed. His eyes sleepily studied the canopy above him, intricate designs of angels and heaven confusing him. He never thought much of it, but watching the white winged angels playing amongst the clouds made him feel small. Insignificant. _Is this what angels do? Is that where we belong? No. No, I belong with my brother. He saved me, and I could never repay him for that. I love my brother, and there is nowhere I'd rather be_ , he thought with a small smile. He always let his rambling thoughts get to him. His mind drifted off into a routine comatose as the last of the bright lights died down from outside his window.

 

* * *

 

The floorboards were always too creaky, especially when it was quiet. The weight of his wings only contributed to the problem as he attempted to lift their drag on the staircase. He knew that his hair was a sleepy mess, and he gave an effort to tame the short, dark locks and to flatten them before he turned the corner. It never worked, anyway. His fingers grasped the white cloth around his legs and he folded his wings around his bare shoulders. In the kitchen, he could see his older brother over the counter, a pot with a small fire under it and a wonderful scent intoxicating the air. He tried to be quiet, add an element of surprise, but his brother turned to his direction when another floorboard emitted a whine under his weight. Damn. "Castiel! What are you doing up this early?" Castiel shrugged, leaning against the wall.

"I was too awake to fall back asleep."

"Well, the birthday boy deserves his sleep, you know." What? Oh, right. Today was his birthday. _Eighteenth, right?_ He could never truly keep track. He decided to sit down, glancing out the open window, watching as the clouds rolled by above the trees. _Today is the day. Er, maybe not. I can't do this, I can't betray his trust like that. Maybe I can just ask next year, when I'm ready. What? No, dammit! That's what you said last year! And the year before that._ He sighed. _And the year before that._ "Something on your mind, Castiel?" Castiel's head jerked upright at the sound of his brother's voice.

"Hmm? Oh, no, Lucifer, everything is fine," he replied, a little too somber than he had hoped. He could tell that his brother didn't take it, as he stopped his working and pulled a stool next to him.

"Are you sure, Castiel? You can tell me anything, trust me,"he said, and the look his his eyes told Castiel that he was sincere. Castiel sighed, looking down and following traces of wood in the table.

"Lucifer, you trust me, right?" His brother nodded. "Well, seeing as it's my birthday..." he stopped, hoping this wouldn't come out too extravagant and difficult. "I was wondering if, maybe, I could go see the lights tonight?" His brother chuckled after a moment.

"Oh, my dear brother, you do so every year." Castiel shook his head.

"No, thats not what I meant." He saw his brother's expression drop, and he knew now that he was following his thoughts.

"Castiel, why would you ask such a thing?" The younger angel tilted his head.

"But-"

"Haven't you heard of what goes on out there? The demons, merciless angel killings, rogue angels murdering humans and their own kind! The Angel-Demon war still rages on! Why on earth would you want to venture in such a hellish place?" Castiel shrunk down in his seat, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer, I seem to have overlooked that." His brother bent down to him, placing a hand on his cheek.

"A pretty face such as yourself has no place in such an unruly world. You belong here, safe, and out of harms way. I saved you from that world, and I don't dare expose you to it again." Castiel met his gaze, and Lucifer's expression darkened. "Now, I never want to hear that question escape your lips again. Do you hear me?" Castiel nodded obediently, and Lucifer removed his hand from his cheekbone. "Go on now, I have errands to run." Lucifer turned away, heading towards his bags.

"Lucifer! Wait!" Castiel called out. His brother turned around, and Castiel lifted a hand to his forehead where a small bit of skin was wearing down, turning reddish pink. He closed his eyes and focused, feeling a warm glow from his wings behind him, and when his eyes opened, he watched the patch of skin grow shut and clean. He dropped his hand to straighten out a few stray feathers as the glow began to die down. Lucifer smiled and turned back his bags.

"Thank you, Castiel, I could have missed that." Castiel shrugged in response, not taking too much consideration of the act. "Now then, you know what I need you to do." Castiel nodded, heading towards the window. From the outside and just under the sill was a single, withered vine. Castiel placed a finger gently on top of it, letting his grace flow through him and to the dying plant. With a white spark, the vine flushed green and outstretched. One by one, a branch extended down and across the outside the stones of the tower. A few buds blossomed before the last of the vines finally touched the grass below. Castiel gazed outside before finally turning to his brother and stepping aside. Lucifer smiled, swinging a leg over the windowsill and placing his foot in the thick vines. "Thank you, Castiel. I should be back by tonight." Castiel nodded. He waited until Lucifer was out of sight before leaving the room and traveling to his bedroom upstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

The hours were almost unbearable. Several of his chores were long since finished, as were most of his time consuming hobbies. A freshly baked pie now sat on the kitchen counter- he was simply waiting for Lucifer to return to actually do anything with it. For now, there was nothing more to do than to rest against the window, twirling his fingers in the flowers that grew into his room from the outside. Sometimes small animals would visit him: blue birds flew into his room on occasion, tiny ladybugs would inch in from the window, but never had he seen something like this. It was small, bigger than the usual lady bug, but still small. Castiel took careful observation of it; it was fuzzy, by the touch of it, and it was a bright yellow and black. Looking at the frail wings, it puzzled him as to how the insect could fly in the first place. He could have sworn he had seen one of them before- not in real life, of course, but most likely in a book or something. It took all of his concentration to make in effort in remembering. He squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows, staring the tiny creature down as his thoughts traveled elsewhere. When he had researched on it, he remembered that he had taken a liking to the name. It was simple, but it fit the creature so well. The name made him happy, in a way, but what the hell was it? He took another moment to remember. "Bee!" He exclaimed happily, satisfied with his findings. The bee buzzed around in one of the purple flowers at the edge of the window. As the bee minded to itself, Castiel hopped up and rushed to his chest across the room. After wiping off the dust, he threw the lid open and retrieved his supplies. On the wall holding the window was an older painting he had made just a few months back, with the image of the gardens and the forest below him. The sights always intrigued him, and his inner artistic self couldn't help himself. With the brush in his hand, he tapped a small yellow dot just above a blue flower in the grass. A few black stripes and white-blue wings later, he stepped back in admiration of the tiny bee floating amongst the flowers. Castiel was suddenly alarmed with the small insect when he returned to it. It was flapping it's wings frantically, and it appeared to not be able to take flight. He remembered what he had read about bees and their typical altitude, realizing that the only way it could have made it's way this high up was by climbing the trail of flowers. A rush of sadness and compassion passed through Castiel, and he got down on his knees and allowed the bee to crawl onto his finger. He grabbed one of his wings and pulled a feather onto the bee, the bright blue light flooding into it. After a moment, the bee was able to fly once again. Castiel sighed and smiled releasing the bee into the air of his room and he fell back on his bed. The angel watched the bee in wonder until he drifted off unexpectedly.

 


	2. Of Angels and Man

The wind in his hair. The fire in his veins. The beat of his heart danced along with every step he took. In his head, fear mixed with carelessness blended into the perfect drug he found himself addicted to. Oh, how he loved it.

 

The lift in land up ahead was nowhere near an obstacle to him, and he jumped and climbed it with ease. His brothers, however, were the contrary. "Dammit, Milligan, get up here!" The youngest brother, more of adoption than blood, as he only came from their father, scolded at him as his hands clawed the earth blocking him. His other younger brother, Sam, made in effort to lift him, his height coming as an advantage, but to no avail could he make the destination. "Throw the bag up here, it's a weigh down!" He shouted down at them. At first, his brothers looked to him in refusal, but the sounds of galloping horses and men coming closer changed their minds. Adam Milligan threw the heavy bag upwards and the oldest caught it without a second glance.

"Now then, give us a hand!" Adam said hurriedly, glancing back to see if the men were coming any closer. Dean flashed a smile.

"Sorry you two, but I think you have bigger problems." He turned on his heels and sprinted off as the men came into view.

"Damn you, Dean!" Adam shouted, and the two younger brothers parted ways into the forest.

 

Just a few moments ago the paths were clear and easy to pass through, but, unfortunately, that never lasted long. Thick foliage slapped his face and thistles cut his legs. At least he was a long way from the men behind him. For now, that is. This far in, there seemed to be no end to the dark of the forest around him. His draining energy caught up with him; there was pain in his side and barely any air left in his lungs. A nearby tree seemed to welcome him as he slumped down on the ground and leaned on it. He placed a hand on his bag, checking to see that the object inside was still in its place. It was. He closed his eyes, still panting, then opened them to observe his surroundings. The forest was almost completely dark except for the few patches of dull morning light that shone through the leaves above him. Being alone, his thoughts began to wander. What about his brother, Sam, the one he truly cared about? What if he was caught? What if they executed him? Based on their reputation, that was surely the punishment. Dean couldn't handle the thought. _I need to go back, I need to get him out of this._ He groaned loudly, which evolved into anger and finding himself standing up and punching the tree. He screamed and kicked a particularly large stone, which he knew would cause a deal of pain later on, but for now he couldn't care less. _Fuck you dad, and your fucking family business._ Dean closed his eyes tightly as he once again slid down the trunk of the tree, his hand in immense pain. Sam would be fine, for now, anyway. The man was practically a moose, he would definitely outrun them. Adam, however, Dean couldn't find himself to really give a damn about. He was a dick to the both of them anyway, and the only reason he ever stuck with them was because his dad forced him to. Before their father, well, before he died. Before he was caught. Was executed. Dean shook the memory out of his head, it was too much for him. He finally decided to continue his journey onwards to, well, he didn't really know. He just had to get out of here. It was still early morning, the sun just barely peeking from behind the mountains. He slung his bag over his shoulder, sighing, and started off.

 

* * *

 

 

He had run the brush through his mop of hair for what seemed liked the hundredth time already, but the dark locks absolutely refused to go down from their typical, messy state. When he had finally given up on the effort, he sighed in the mirror, noticing his wings were in a worse condition. The black feathers were ruffled and sticking out all over the place, complimenting his hair. He ran his fingers through them several times, trying to straighten them, before giving up and walking away from the mirror.

 

Castiel paced back and forth and around in circles, staring up at the ceiling. He never quite noticed just how high the ceiling really was. He stood up on his bare toes, tilting his head as he observed the height. He bounced up and down on his toes, slowly folding and extending the length of his wings. When he was a child, Castiel had always wanted to know what exactly it was that his wings were meant to do. He would watch he birds fly outside his window and always dreamt of doing the same. When he was younger, he had tried many times, but always ended up falling on his face no matter how hard he tried. But now, this time was different, it had to be. He took a deep breath, bouncing a little higher and spreading his wings a little further. He just knew that he could do it this time, and with one last flap of his enormous wings, his feet left the floor. The moment seemed suspended in time, his breath was taken, and he didn't dare open his eyes. Small gusts of wind came from heavily flapping his wings, and papers scattered around the room. When he opened his eyes and everything finally caught up with him, he realized just how high up he was. He froze in fear and clung onto a large plank of wood supporting the ceiling. Though he warned himself not to, his eyes darted to the floor below him, and he held onto the wood for dear life. He flapped his wings frantically climbed to the mast closer to him, clinging to it. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his wings around himself, watching as a single feather dropped through the air gracefully before the wind sucked it out the window. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, trying to distract himself. Surely, if he waited, Lucifer would come home to help him right? But then again, how the hell would the wingless angel get up here? What will he think when he finds Castiel up here? The young angel groaned and decided to just let the consequences roll by. "I'll just...wait here then."

 

* * *

 

 

 _Running. Running sounds good right about now._ All it took was to trip over a single rock for everything to go eerily silent. The birds stopped singing their early morning songs, the crickets stopped chirping, and everything else was simply quiet. Dean stood up quickly and immediately dashed off when the only sound he could hear was the familiar sound of growling. Soon after, twigs were snapping as the loud echo of vicious barking filled the forest, red eyes glowing from over Dean's shoulder. Even the beasts' teeth were blood stained. Dean lunged himself at a nearby tree and climbed it expertly just as the pack of Hell Hounds were gaining on his tracks. He glanced down at the blood practically dripping from the fangs of the monsters, who were clawing and biting away at the tree trunk. Dean slowly inched his way down the branch until he found a foothold on the next tree. Then the next. And the next. The trees were getting progressively taller and harder to climb and he was soon running out of options. The Hell Hounds were gaining on his scent and he could have sworn that one of the trees behind him had snapped due to the creatures gnawing on it. His eyes darted to his belt hanging loosely around his waist, and his hands found a dagger pocketed inside of it. Without thinking too much of it, he forcefully threw one of the blades down towards the pack of Hell Hounds, placing its point in one of the beast's eyes. He winced at the sound it made; just because this was a part of the job didn't mean he liked it. One by one, he stabbed the Hell Hounds until he had run out of weapons. By then, the rest of the pack had fled.

 

Dean slid down the trunk of the tree and retrieved the used daggers, nearly gagging at the bloody eyeball being pulled out of its socket when he took the blade. He wiped the dark blood off on his pants, leaving red stains on the brown material. When he looked back up, he realized that he was near an opening of the forest. He smiled to himself and set off, pacing himself this time.

 

He kicked away some thorns from a bush digging into his skin, stepping over and confronting a wall of vines. He pushed them away, finding a dark tunnel ahead. It was damp, and the mud seeped into his boots as droplets of water heavily plopped into his hair. Luckily, the tunnel wasn't too long, as light illuminated the exit just ahead. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him. The stone tower reached into the sky, greenery growing at impossible heights all around it, and it was much taller than any building he had ever seen in the villages. Dean unknowingly stepped into a small stream as he took a step forward. With the guards anywhere nearby, he knew that this was his only chance.

 

* * *

 

 

He had been staring at the same knot in the wood for nearly an hour now, as if expecting it to do something. For the first time in what seemed like forever, something else caught his attention- the sound of clanking and chipping could be heard from just outside the window. He leaned forward, then snapped right back up and hugged the mast. His eyes widened when a figure, weapons in hand, climbed over the windowsill. His heart raced rapidly, watching the figure's every single movement. It glanced around the room, then looked down at one of Castiel's feathers on the floor that he had shed earlier. The angel brought his knees to his chest in an attempt to hide when the figure looked up. Suddenly, Castiel lost balance, tripping on his feet and falling forward. He crashed into the stranger, who was now facing the floor, eyes closed and body limp. Castiel jumped up and covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide. "Oh my god I killed him," he said hurriedly. He began to pace around, as he does, his wings flapping panicky behind him. "I killed a man. Oh Lord I killed a man." He looked back to the body lying on the floor and he rushed over, searching for a heartbeat. It was still. He held back a scream as tears welled in his eyes. _The first time you meet another person, and you killed him. Nice job, Castiel._ He bent down, turned the body over, and placed his fingers on the man's forehead, allowing his ability to do the rest. With his other hand on the man's chest, he waited until the beating of his heart started back up again, then stepped back. The man still didn't wake. Castiel laughed silently to himself. "Yeah, nice going. What are you going to tell Lucifer?" He said to himself, "'oh no, I was fine, everything went well, I just killed a man and let his body lay there after I brought him back. So, how was it during the errand run?'" Castiel smacked his forehead in disbelief.

 

He ran his own conversation a few lines longer before looking back to the man. He was just lying there. Peacefully. Gently. Beautifully. It was hard to believe he intruded the place with couple of bloody blades in his hands. The angel got down on his knees to better observe him, you know, just in case he's seen him before. Yeah, that's exactly what he was doing. He noticed how perfectly the sunlight captured the dark blond strands of hair, how his freckles complimented his face. His lips were slightly parted, breathing slowly. Castiel never thought a human could be so...unimaginably beautiful, for Lucifer had always described them as selfish, disgusting, horrible creatures. How can such art as the man in front of him possibly be capable of such things? Castiel leaned forward, speaking softly. "You're going to be alright, everything is fine. Maybe when you wake up, we can tal-" the man's eyes slowly opened, bright green absolutely enveloping Castiel's mind, flooding into him. He panicked, his fingers still near the man's head, and tapped his hairline forcefully as his grace shot through him and knocked the man unconscious. _Damn. So much for first impressions_.


	3. Green Eyes and Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapters are kinda short, but that's just my writing style, I guess. I'm used to writing shorter fics, but please enjoy nevertheless!

His head was absolutely pounding. The world slowly came into view as he shook his head, reaching his hands up to- wait. He jumped in his sitting position as he attempted to free his hands from behind his back. "Wha-?" The rope dug into his wrists, and the uncomfortable chair made his back ache as he struggled to be set free. He sat there, pulling his body forward with all of his strength, the chair scraping against the floor, sending a horrid sound echoing around the room.

"It would be easier not to struggle."

Dean stopped at the voice, his eyes going wide. His heart nearly stopped as he looked out of the corner of his eye- he hadn't even noticed the figure standing over him.

"Jesus-!"He jumped, sending both him and the chair forward, landing on his face. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain that shot through his forehead. The figure leaned down and lifted the chair back on all fours with a single hand.

"That was unfortunate," the man said.

"Yeah, it takes a friggin genius to know that, now doesn't it?" Dean replied, his voice dripping with thick sarcasm. The man now stood in front of him, and all Dean could think was, well, _holy shit_. There were no words; his dark, black brown hair, light scruff on a sharp jawline, perfect cheekbones, and damn, it was the eyes that got to him. The way they stared right into him, it made him feel like he was made of glass, like just a single look from those deep, impossibly blue eyes would shatter him. Then there was the one thing he hadn't expected- the raven black wings, disheveled and spread ever so slightly spread out as if he were a predator targeting his prey, letting it know there was no way out. Dean gaped ever so subtly, which slowly evolved into a familiar sly smirk. "Well then," he said, his eyes hooded as he stared up at the creature in front of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel slowly stepped back. What was this man doing? Is- is this a typical human greeting? Why was he reacting this way? He suddenly couldn't stop his wings spreading out just a bit further than his usual comfort. His hands immediately reached for them to fold them around himself, still backing away, refusing to look at the human in front of him. Still, he couldn't help his eyes from lingering. The man's eyes were no longer looking to him with- what was that, arousal? Definitely arousal- but of concern. Those god damn eyes- Castiel cursed himself for ever looking back at them. They were almost impossibility green, bright and wide eyed staring right back at him. The strands of dark blonde hair glistened in the sunlight from the window, even more beautifully than before, in a way. Now that he had finally truly seen his eyes, however, he almost felt his heart skip a beat. He swallowed thickly, his vision darting to anywhere around the room but in front of him. Finally, he sighed and glared back at the man, a darker expression settling in. "What the hell are you doing here, and how did you find me?" He asked, his deep voice growling against the silence. The human almost looked confused, yet defending.

"Listen, princess, I wasn't looking for you. I was trying to find a place to hide-"

"From?" Castiel interrupted. The man rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you just let me out and I'll explain." Castiel hesitated, unsure. This man seemed nowhere near trustworthy, but then again...

"Damn it," he said quietly, letting the words slip from his mind to his mouth on accident. He made his way behind the chair, getting down on his knees to untie the knot. "What the hell?" He whispered, a bit too loudly. The rope wasn't even tied. His eyes widened, both in fear and confusion, when the man laughed and the sound of a knife clattering on the floor filled the room. Before he could react, the man was spinning around on his heel and pinning Castiel to the ground, knife in hand and hovering over his face.

"Now tell me, where is it?" He growled.

"What? Where's what?!" Castiel pleaded, his voice higher than usual.

"You know what I'm talking about! The bag! Where is it?" When Castiel didn't respond, the knife found it's way chipping into his right shoulder, a faint blue-white light glowing out of it. Castiel screamed silently in pain, a whimper escaping his throat. His breath was shaking, he couldn't get a single word out. The man raised his blade again, this time aiming for a place more vital.

"Under the staircase!" He said, barely audible over his uneasy breath.

"What?!"

"UNDER THE STAIRCASE!" Tears were now streaming out of his eyes as he closed them, too petrified to look at the human any longer. When he opened them, just slightly, the man had stabbed a small pile of books next to him and stood up.

 

Castiel attempted to slow his heartbeat back to normal, but to no avail. He gritted his teeth as he cautiously got back to his feet, then wrapping his wings around him. He found a spot on top of a bookcase and leapt up, his ability of flight supporting him. From there, he curled up around himself and watched the man lift the wooden floorboard on the staircase. He pulled out his bag, then immediately headed for the window when suddenly, he stopped. Castiel almost started crying in fear again when the human's bright green eyes poured into his again. His eyes didn't even make him feel hypnotized in the slightest anymore, now that he knew they were the eyes of what could be a murderer. This is exactly what Lucifer warned him about, and he ignored every word. "What..." the man slowly said, almost carefully. "What were doing with this?" He held up the small bag in his hand. Castiel took a deep breath, not looking at him.

"I wanted to know..." deep breath, "if you could do something for me."

"Like what?" Castiel almost couldn't respond. "What are you, a prostitute, or something?"

"I don't even know what that is." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion . The man sighed, as if to say "obviously."

"Then, what?" The angel hesitated, staring down at the man. Could he really trust him? He was most likely going to ditch him, or kill him. Still... He hopped down from the bookcase, landing on his bare feet, and slowly stepped towards the man near the window.

"I have been living here, in this tower, for my entire life. Today, I want out, only for a day." He paused, then continued on. "Tomorrow marks that I've been here for eighteen years-"

"You mean your birthday?" The man said, sounding bored.

"Precisely. And..." he glanced outside the window, seeing the sun still barely reaching the height of the sky. "Tonight, I want to leave for once. I want to see the stars in person."

"You mean the lights they send out every year?" The bored, defeated tone never left him. Castiel tilted his head, almost pleading. After a staring session that seemed to last an eternity, the man sighed loudly, groaning and glancing at the ceiling. "Fine! Fine." Castiel honestly had no idea how to respond, happiness building up inside of him to point where he might as well scream. He jumped up a single time, wrapping his bare arms around the man, smiling when he finally pulled back. His eyes absolutely glistened with happiness and excitement. "Yeah, yeah, come on, calm down before you fall out the window." Castiel made a silent "oh" and placed a hand on the man's left shoulder, pulling both of them away from the window ledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave feedback!


	4. The Road That Lies Ahead of Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that it took so long to update, but the next chapter should be out sooner than the last. Enjoy!

All of his life had built up to this one moment. Freedom lied before him, amongst the wide stretch of land and the river and the trees, they all waited for him. The breeze brushing the feathers of his wings called to him, a sign, almost. His bright blue eyes gazed at every detail of the world before him. I can do this, he told himself, after all this time, I'm going to do this. I'm doing to do this. "I can't do this," he said aloud, once he had actually looked down and reality had hit him right in the face.  
"Are you kidding me," the man said flatly. Castiel looked to him, eyes wide and heart pounding against his chest.  
"That... that's at least a seventy foot drop down there! The first thing I want to do when I get out there is NOT die!" He ran his hand through his already messy hair out of nervousness. "And besides, I'm doing this with an absolute stranger! I don't even know your name and- and you tried to kill me!" The man rolled his eyes, sighing.  
"The name's Dean, and I did not try to kill you."  
"You had a blade to my face!" He shouted to Dean's face.  
"It's my version of hello." Dean's voice remained flat, looking him dead in the eye, causing Castiel's anger to gradually rise.  
"Damn you!" He threw his arms up and wings out in frustration, sitting down on the floor next to the window. His head rested in his hands, and the silence stretched on in the room. The angel glanced upward at Dean to see him staring out the window.  
"Well, if you're not going to get on it, I've got places to be," he told him, not even looking in his direction before swinging a door over the windowsill. It took Castiel a moment to process before jumping to his feet and going after him.  
"Wait!" He gripped the windowsill, looking to him, and Dean looked into his eyes, only inches between them. The man groaned.  
"What?" Castiel looked down, around the man and at the tower reaching below.  
"How are you going to get down?" Dean stared at him blankly before realizing- there was no safe way to get down.  
"Oh." Castiel stepped back, offering his hand.  
"Come back inside, I can help." Dean, unsure, took a moment to contemplate his options to see that he had no other, and grabbed his hand, allowing the angel to pull him inside with ease. "As long as we're exchanging information in greeting, my name is Castiel."  
"Bless you," Dean joked, but Castiel didn't understand. "Never mind."

Castiel didn't let go of his hand (no sense of personal space, obviously) and bent down over the windowsill. He placed a hand on one of the withered vines to attempt in growing it, but to avail when suddenly, the angel lost his balance. Just before he could fall, he felt a pair of large hands on his waist, holding him back. "Whoa there, buddy." Castiel just huffed a laugh, going back to finish his work. His grace flooded into the small plant, watching it grow down the tower, counting every tiny, yellow delicate flower buds blooming as it did. He counted forty seven before turning back to Dean. He smiled shyly, allowing him to pass.

The human took the first step, balancing himself on the windowsill, looking back to Castiel. The angel stared back, confused, when Dean held a hand out to him. "Come on, now. The sooner we leave the sooner you get to see the world."  
"Well, not the world, I don't think I'm ready for that. Because of people, mostly." Dean looked away, smiling.  
"Alright. Let's head off then. Cas, right?"  
"Actually, it's-" the angel stopped himself, "yes, Cas is fine." He finally took the man's hand, stepping up on the windowsill. He was shaky at first, leveling his wings to stay upright. They both let out a shaky laugh when Cas held onto Dean's left shoulder for support.  
"Ready to go?" Dean asked.  
"...No," Cas replied honestly. Dean smiled brightly, that sense of adventure sparkling in his eyes.  
"Good." He held onto Cas tightly as he took the first step, finding a foothold in the vines. Cas would occasionally glance at Dean, anything but at the ground. It was incredibly obvious as well- their faces were so close that Dean could feel Cas' eyelashes brush against his cheekbone when he blinked.

"D-Dean..." Cas breathed, barely audible over the sudden flapping of his wings.  
"Whoa, easy there," Dean comforted, "calm down, it'll be alright." Cas' grip on Dean's shoulder tightened opposed to his words.  
"DEAN!" He shrieked, looking down. Dean's foot had just missed the foothold, leaving the two of them hanging onto the vines, their hearts nearly jumping to their throats. When Dean's hand finally couldn't hold on any longer, Cas frantically attempted to catch air under his disheveled wings, but due to both of their weight combined and the awkward placement of feathers, it was impossible. Their screams and shouts of panic filled the silence as the two of them held onto each other, falling several feet to the earth. The ground was only a few feet below them when suddenly, the hit was hesitated. Cas let go of the air he had finally caught in his wings, landing them both down onto the ground gracefully.  
Cas was almost startled from the feel of wet on his feet, the little green blades tickling his ankles. He wondered why Dean wasn't reacting the same way to the damp ground beneath them, quickly looking up to see Dean staring back at him. He jumped towards the man when he noticed him falling back onto the ground in fear that he had fainted, or fallen, only to find him... laughing? God dammit, he's lost his mind. He shot one hit of grace into the man's head and he went insane. Great. Just great.  
"Dean, are you..." he couldn't even finish his question due to Dean's seemingly uncontrollable laughter.  
"Yeah, just..." more laughter cut him off, "what the hell...what the hell just happened?" Cas tilted his head, staring down at him.  
"Are you unaware? Have you been mentally injured?"  
"Ha...um, no, I'm fine."  
"Are you physically impaired?" Dean glanced at him, confused. For a guy locked in a tower his whole life, he has way too wide of an extensive vocabulary.  
"I don't think so? I mean, I guess..." he looked down to his left shoulder. "I guess my shoulder kinda stings from the fall, might have a few bruises later, but I'm al-"  
"Allow me to check for-" Castiel got down on his knees in the grass, hovering over Dean.  
"Whoa whoa, hold up-"  
"Open your mouth-"  
"What? I don't-" Cas gently placed a hand to cup the back of Dean's head, using the fingers on his other hand to pry open his mouth.  
"Stick out your tongue."  
"Wha?" Cas placed his thumb in his mouth to do so himself when Dean didn't obey right away.  
"Alright." Cas said, taking his fingers out of Dean's mouth and instead using them to press back his eyelids and keep his eyes open. "You don't appear to have a concussion." He took a step back while still crouching. "Let me take your temperature."  
"Hell no! Cas! Look, all I said is my shoulder hurts, dammit! Why don't you check that?!" He aggressively pulled his sleeve up his shoulder, and he honest to God about fainted. His entire shoulder had swelled up with a scar in the shape of a hand print, bright red and burning against the breeze. "Holy shit..." Dean breathed.  
"Dean, I-" Cas raised his hand cautiously, and they made eye contact.  
"Did you..." Dean glanced down at his shoulder again, then looked back to Cas with raised eyebrows. "Did you do this?"  
"I- I might be able to heal it, if you would let me..." Cas slowly aligned his hand with the print, trying hard to ignore the pained hiss that came through Dean's clenched teeth. "I-I'm sorry, I-"  
"Hey, hey, calm down, it's fine. I've seen a lot worse. Hell, I've done a lot worse." Castiel looked up at him, a familiar confused look in his eyes.  
"What do you mean?" Dean huffed a laugh, looking away while biting his bottom lip. The moment dragged on until Dean finally looked back to him, then looking back away.  
"Could you get up now? This has been going on longer than the usual awkward moments I've experienced." Castiel blinked, then looked down to realize he's practically straddling Dean's lap. A blush stained his cheeks as he scrambled off him and landed awkwardly in the grass next to him.

Dean stood up, brushing the dirt off his pants as Cas struggled to stand on his own, grabbing some of his cloth around his legs and flapping his wings to support him. He adjusted the vines around his waist, which were woven into a type of strong belt, and stroked the larger messy feathers on his wings. He hadn't noticed when Dean began walking away. "Wait, Dean! Where are you going?" Dean shrugged, not looking back to him as he continued onwards.  
"You wanted out of the tower, you're out of the tower. My job here is done."  
"But-"  
"No buts, Cas. You asked me a favor and I delivered. I'm going back to business." Cas flared his wings, somewhere between frustrated and desperate and god dammit, why would he do this now? So much emotion was building up so rapidly and he's never in his life felt this way before. Why are humans so complicated?  
"Dean, please!" Oh hell no. There was no way he was breaking down now. For the first time in his life, he had actually interacted with an actual human and he is not going to let his emotions get the best of him now.

Dean had finally stopped in his tracks and turned around with an honest to god playfulness in his eyes. That made it official: he absolutely hated this man. How could Dean look so god damn cheerful when Castiel was having both a mental and emotional breakdown at the same time? That was it, he decided the whole thing wasn't worth his time. He might as well turn around and climb back up the tower himself. "Hey come on now," Dean called. Castiel's expression hardened. "You know I wouldn't actually leave you like that. I'm not that much of a douche." Cas tilted his head, the anger leaving his face. What is a- nope, forget it. He will not waste his time here just trying to figure out the man in front of him because something tells him he never truly will. Dean threw his arm ahead of him. "Come on, I got someplace I wanna show you." Dean began back on the trail and with hesitation, Castiel followed him, wrapping his wings around him as a type of protection. Not once while traveling past the flora did he ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him to turn around.

 


	5. As the Water Slowly Rises

He refused to look at him the entire time during their walk. Dean should know this is his first time ever interacting with a human. He should have been at least a little more considerate. Then again, maybe Castiel was just being a bit self centered? What if Dean has never had encounters with an angel? Though it seems unlikely, he shouldn't automatically assume anything. The incident from earlier with the knife in his face should have set that fact straight.

Castiel hadn't even noticed Dean was talking to him, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts. It wasn't until he called his name for the fourth time that he snapped back to reality. "Hmm?"  
"I said, have you always been up there by yourself? In the tower?"  
"Well, no, there was my brother-" he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Lucifer- how could he have forgotten about Lucifer? He was meant to be back in a few days, but there were always times when he came back early from his trips. What if he came back to Castiel missing? There was no telling what would happen.

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Dean placed a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Hey, calm down, we'll be back before he even knows you're gone, ok? We don't need you having a panic attack before we even leave the woods." Cas took a deep breath, looking up at him. Dean's eyes poured right into his, a soft, reassuring look inside of them calming his nerves. Castiel nodded and Dean gave a small smile, standing back up straight and taking Cas' wrist as he led him down the path.

~~~

It wasn't long before the two of them had arrived at what looked like an old shack. Dean's excitement almost radiated off of him, even though Castiel's faded the instant he opened the door. The inside smelled thickly of alcohol, body odor and- what is that, blood? There were unusual fumes building in the air from the fireplace, filling the room with a god awful smell and intoxicating the air, making him lightheaded. His thoughts were interrupted when Dean sighed beside him. "Take in a deep breath of that!" He said enthusiastically. Cas made a disapproving face, honestly flabbergasted at how the human could possibly be enjoying this.  
"No thank you, that would be undesirable," he said- hell he was near to gagging at a simple whiff of the environment. Dean chuckled at his response. Maybe it was giggling, Cas deciphered, because of whatever was in the air was probably getting to him. What the hell was that? The angel had inhaled many horrible scents in his lifetime- mostly from his older brother, coming home from strange errands during the day- but none as gut wretching as this.

They took a seat in the back of the dimly lit room at a miniature bar, where Dean held up two fingers to the bartender behind the counter. The petite woman was wearing little to no clothing (a tight corset covering only her bust and a small skirt that she appeared to have outgrown), much to Cas' distaste, but Dean seemed to be absolutely drooling over her. Cas just didn't see it, and it almost worried him. The instant attraction Dean possessed made Cas wonder if there was something wrong with him. Sure, this was the first time in years- well, his whole life, really- that he had ever had social interactions, but wasn't attractions, even sexual, a typical reaction? Or maybe, was it different for angels?

The bartender came back within a few moments with a wink to the blond man and two cups filled with an amber liquid, setting them down on the wooden counter. Cas tilted his head, eyeing the glass down like he had taken part in a staring contest, while Dean downed a fourth of it in a single gulp. He looked to Dean in confusion. "Go on then," he said. Cas looked back to it, refusing to do anything but glance at it. "Come on, it's just a drink, Cas. You know what to do." Taking a small sniff of it, he immediately recognized the beverage as alcohol. Though he had never consumed any himself, he recalled memories of Lucifer returning to the tower, drinking it after hours he assumed the young Castiel had fallen asleep. The memory was blinked away when Castiel could feel Dean's eyes watching him, waiting for him to make a move. He wrapped his fingers around the glass slowly, raising it to his lips with caution. The taste of it was just indescribably disgusting, but once the liquid touched his throat, he slammed the glass back onto the table with a force so strong it cracked the rim of the cup, and he coughed at the burning sensation. Wincing, he closed his eyes, trying to force everything out. Dear God, what the hell was wrong with these people? Who ever thought that creating such a damn thing would be a good idea? To make matters worse, Dean just laughed, causing his thoughts to be intercepted. "Damn, Cas, sorry bout that." Cas jumped, startled, when Dean's hand slapped him suddenly on his upper back, just between his wings where he was extremely sensitive. A shock spread down through his body, and he widened his eyes when the sensation twitched just between his legs. Cas gave an awkward cough and leaned forward on the counter top to hide whatever had just happened. Thank god Dean hadn't noticed.

The bartender returned, curving her body against the table, almost seductively. An unnecessary action, in Cas' eyes. "First time, huh sweetheart?" she said smoothly. When Cas looked up, she licked at her unnaturally red stained lips. He nodded slowly in response. She giggled, batting her long, black eyelashes a few times. Cas looked to Dean with wide eyes, unsure of why the female was acting in this manner. What should he do? What was she doing? Why the hell is hisheart racing so fast? He didn't believe it was in a sexual manner, either, not even slightly compassionate. Dean only smiled, nodding towards her. So much for the help. What the hell does he do now? Cas glanced from the bartender to Dean a few times before suddenly grabbing his cracked glass of whatever kind of alcohol, downing the whole thing at once, looking straight forward blankly as he did so. He set the empty glass down, then looked up carefully to observe the bartender, trying to understand her motive- she looked different now: her dark black (maybe brown, the lighting is too dark) curls were thrown loosely over her bare shoulders, and the strings on the front of her black top were now undone some, revealing much of her pale breasts. The angel was getting too many signals at once, his mind was blank and eyes were wide with confusion. She bent forward over the table, placing her small hand atop of Castiel's, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the other side of the bar. Fuck. Shit. What's happening? Dean? Cas looked back to Dean, who gave him a thumbs up, as the sexy bartender pulled him through a door, closing it behind her.

She didn't look back at the panicking Castiel as she dragged him down several dark hallways, the only light source being the flickering red candles hanging from the walls. The woman pulled a key from the inside of her revealing top- what the hell, anyways?- and shoved it into a lock under the doorknob, fiddling with it for a moment before creaking the door open. The room inside wasn't any better than the rest of the bar: horribly lit, smelled of blood and alcohol, but in here he felt himself getting higher than the sky itself. The bartender locked the door behind her, then slowly undoing her small top as she glided towards Castiel. "Hey there, Clarence," she said, letting the top fall to the floor and licking his lips with her tongue, "the name's Meg." She rested her hands on his hips, guiding him towards the bed. Meg pressed him down on the soft mattress, gradually pulling his wrap off of his shoulder. She dragged the material off of his body and tossed it aside, onto the floor. "Going commando, eh boy?" She said with a smirk, and Castiel swallowed down the lump in his throat. He didn't even watch as she slid off her skirt and threw it into the pile where his own clothing lay. Meg drew her finger down his hairless chest, tracing the right muscles down his stomach until the angel finally bucked forward where her hand lay next. "Good boy, Clarence."

The moment stretched on unbearably for a while longer, but he didn't expect what happened next. "What the hell?" Meg whispered.  
"Is there a prob-?"  
"Yes, there is a problem!" She shouted. Castiel just didn't understand. His mind flew through all of the possibilities of why this woman could be upset. Was it his lack of erection? He had done research on sexual intercourse through vast amounts of literature, and that variable had always been a key part of the action. That was probably the issue. Castiel, sighed, closing his eyes.  
"Meg, let me tell you the truth." The woman rolled off of his body and allowed him to sit up.  
"Spit it out, then." She snapped. Castiel took a deep breath, preparing himself, then looking her dead in the eye.  
"You might be a wonderful woman, but I have absolutely no attraction towards you, sexually nor mutual compassion. I don't know what it is, but something about both you and this atmosphere displeased me greatly. I feel no emotion towards you, and this entire experience is completely outside of not only my comfort zone, but also my morals. I do not, nor would I ever, want to have sexual intercourse with you. Overall, I hope this does not offend you in any way." After his entire statement, Meg just seemed to be outright surprised. Her mouth hung open, and she didn't move. Castiel sighed, reaching for her hand. "I feel as though I have wronged you completely. If there is any possible way that I could make this up to you-" he stopped when Meg's eyes widened. Castiel slowly looked down, embarrassingly realizing his mistake. "Well, that's not your hand."

~~~

Dean smiled smugly once Cas had left. "Lucky guy," he muttered, glad he could finally get the angel engaged in something. He stood up from his stool and wandered elsewhere- he figured he may as well mingle for the next few minutes until Cas came back. He took a seat at a small table, delighted to see that he already knew the small group of people taking place in their conversation.  
"Winchester!" One of them called, her face brightening at his presence. Dean noticed she had cut her red locks shorter since the last time he saw her.  
"Bradbury!" He called back. Dean could remember the day he met Charlie Bradbury clearer than he remembered the back of his own hand. It was at that very bar, the two of them drunkenly debating the mythical lore of one of their favorite novels, creating their own ideas and explanations to go along with it. Neither of them could remember them the next day, but they would meet up and converse about new ones they thought up every weekend. Next to her, a blonde haired girl, Jo, looked to him, eyes sparkling when she saw Dean had sat down with them. She had her arms locked with Charlie's, so she used the other to set her drink down and wave. Dean's father had had some pretty short (not to mention not too friendly) encounters with Jo's mother, Ellen, so when he dropped Dean off as a kid to go off on the job, he had practically grown up with her. Dean had introduced Jo to Charlie once he discovered the way that Charlie swings, and the two of them had been in a strong relationship since the first time they hit it off. Beside Dean was a young Asian kid, Kevin Tran, who brushed some of his hair out of his eye to look up to him. He had met Kevin not too long ago, apparently a friend of Charlie's from home. "Hey there, Kev," he messed up Kevin's hair, and he groaned in response. "So, how long has it been? Two, three months?"  
"Too long!" Charlie said. Dean beamed at her.  
"We noticed another guy with you when you walked in," Jo stated, "you find yourself a partner already?" Charlie punched her playfully on her shoulder with her free hand.  
"Jo! Manners!" Jo giggled along with the red head.  
"Nah," Dean said, looking down," he's just some weird guy I met, I'm just doing him a favor."  
"What kind of favor?" Charlie asked in a dirty manner, wiggling her eyebrows. The tabled broke into laughter.  
"Ew, gross guys, calm down. I literally just met him. I was on a run, I found a tower, he said he'd never been outside, I took him here."  
"Never been outside? What does that even mean?" Kevin asked. Dean just shrugged, still unable to get the story straight even now.  
"No idea. He's pretty weird, I doubt I'll ever figure him out."  
"Heh, yeah," Jo cut in, "he came in wearing a sheet. It's gonna take you a while." Dean did his own signature laugh, throwing his whole body into it.

Their conversation went on until it was abruptly interrupted by a high pitched shriek that made the whole bar go silent. Dean's head turned to the door in the back as the words "fucking ignorant jerk!" were screamed out and the door flew open. The Winchester stood up suddenly, rushing to the hallway behind the door where the woman (actually the bartender from before, he just realized) had just stormed out of, finding a disheveled Castiel standing in the poorly lit hallway. He was gripping his wrap over his chest, his dark hair a mess, sticking out all over, and just staring at Dean, absolutely confused.  
"What the hell happened, man?" Dean asked. Cas furrowed his brows, shaking his head slightly.  
"I- I don't know. I believe we were performing intercourse, and..." Dean groaned, looking up at the ceiling, covering his face with his hand. He should have seen this coming, how the hell had he not realized this?  
"Oh my god, Cas! You're a virgin, aren't you?" Cas tilted his head, and Dean didn't even need his answer. "Dammit, Cas..."  
"She began to express anger and discomfort after I touched her-" Dean's head snapped up, raising his hands as a signal to stop.  
"Whoa whoa! I don't need the details. Let's just..." he looked to the door. "Let's just go." He grabbed Cas' arm (firmly, but not to painfully) and led him back down the hallway. He shoved the door open, but once he looked up, he stopped dead in the doorway. Every single person in the bar, especially including those whom he didn't even know, had their eyes locked on the two of them. He felt Cas' eyes constantly glance to him with worry, and it absolutely killed him that he couldn't do anything about it. Dean clenched his grip on Cas' arm in an effort to comfort him.

The never-ending silence was broken from the back of the room, where the bartender that had hit on Cas just ten minutes before stood up from one of the benches, casually gliding up to them. She didn't stop until she was only inches away from Dean's face (actually just below him because if her height) and Dean tightened his grip on Cas' arm. "Dean Winchester, right?" She said slowly, thickly. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, looking away from her. How the hell could she know? Did she- a crumpled up poster in her hand caught his eye. Dammit, that's how. His nervousness was answer enough. "Good. Just wanted to make sure." She whispered, trailing her finger on the bridge of his nose. When Dean finally mustered the strength to look her in the face, his heart nearly stopped- her eyes flashed pure black. The sound of flapping wings filled the room, and they counted seven angels that appeared in the room, blades in hand. Dean immediately recognized them as royal guards, the same as the ones sent to find him earlier. "Cas!" He called, having a vice grip on Castiel's arm, and darted down the hall.  
"Dean!-" Cas shouted in alarm, struggling to keep up with him. Dean's hand suddenly slipped downward, locking fingers with the angel.  
"Come on!" Dean picked up the pace, and Cas had to flutter his wings behind him in order to keep up. Just when the exit door was in sight, the demon bartender appeared in their path, her eyes still pitch black with a dark grin planted on her face.  
"Oh, I don't think so sweethearts," she said slyly. All of a sudden, Dean could no longer feel Cas' hand in his. The angel stepped forward, placing his hand on Dean's chest, holding him back.  
"Get out of the way," Cas growled.  
"Ooh, you should've used that tone earlier, Unicorn, I'm super turned on right now." Cas didn't even flinch- he stepped forward and grabbed the demon by her black locks, shoving her full force into the wall, slamming his mouth into hers. While doing so, he winked at Dean, giving him a signal. The man made a run for it, dashing out the door while Cas kept the demon occupied. When he pulled back, she looked up at him, her eyelids heavy. "Wow, Clarence, didn't know you could do that." He gave her a dark glare, stepping back.  
"My name is Castiel." With that, he followed Dean outside where he stood staring down. Apparently they had reached a cliff, where rapid waters run several feet below them.  
"Shit!" Dean exclaimed, as several of the angel guards had finally tracked them down. Suddenly, Castiel's hand was in his again, and he caught his line vision, a look of certainty imprinted in his eyes. "What are you-" the blue eyed angel's muscular arms were now wrapped around him, and he dove straight off the broken land. "Cas! CAS!" Dean held on to Cas for dear life, his arms wrapped around his neck, and Cas now holding his entire body bridal style in his arms as they plummeted into the water.

With all his effort to swim upwards with his wings, Cas and Dean resurfaced, gasping for air. "Dean, what do we-" Dean cut him off, urging him to follow his path of vision- upwards. Someone had disassembled the stones that held the formation of the cliff, and it was falling apart straight towards them.  
"CAS! GO!" With a single push of his wings, Cas held Dean with him to the side of the canyon where a small cave hid nearby.

As much as they both had been expecting it, the crash made them jump. Cas watched as Dean frantically covered parts of the rock with his hands. It wasnt until he saw the water rapidly leaking through that he understood why. Panicking, he almost had to swim his way over to help him. Dean was swearing under his breath, eyes widening in the dark. The water was now up to their knees, but Castiel kept trying. When it was up to his waist, he glanced over to see Dean, gritting his teeth, eyes shut tight with his forehead against the rock trapping them. "Dean-"  
"Cas, I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry." He said quietly. When he looked at him, even in the dark, Cas could see there was absolutely no hope left in his eyes. He hated it. That look should never be on Dean's face. He should never look so sad that tears couldn't even form, and it was the worst thing in Castiel's world to have it happen.  
"Dean, it's alright."  
"No! Fuck, no Cas! It's nowhere near ok! I made you a promise and i can't even do that!" Dean was absolutely heartbroken. There had to be something, anything, Castiel could do for him. He refused to let Dean die like this. If they were going to die, then Cas was going to make their last moments better, even if just slightly better, than this.  
"Dean," he placed his hand on his shoulder, looking him deep in the eye, "I want you to know that I'm glad you were the first human I ever met." Dean huffed a laugh, a sad smile on the corners of his mouth.  
"I'm not."  
"What do you-" Once the water had finally reached passed their necks, he couldn't speak. Castiel searched frantically for Dean, the cave becoming too dark for him to see. He eventually slipped under, sinking towards the bottom in search of him. Deep in the pitch black, Castiel could feel his heart begin to race, his lungs growing tighter and tighter the more the seconds ticked by. He grasped at his throat, choking on what little oxygen he had left. His legs began to kick forcefully, uncontrollably, spasming out in the water. It became more difficult, more painful, to hold in his breath. It was like his chest was being ripped apart, like all of the blood in his veins was absolutely boiling. He felt like screaming, like grabbing the sides of his head and pressing it in until it collapsed in on itself. It was like he had become blind, everything becoming unimaginably darker than it already was, but just then he could see his grace brightening their enclosure, and he saw Dean, grabbing onto the largest feather of his wing as tight as he could. Then everything simply went black.

 


	6. The Things We Left Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MENTIONS OF SELF HARM

What happened next, he could barely remember. Brief, faded images of dark, of panic, then just...light. He could remember the last of the oxygen in his lungs slipping out of him, and a loud explosion all around them, and now they're just...here. Dean lied there, panting on the side of a riverbank after shoving Castiel's now breathing body onto land. He lied back on a collection of rocks, dripping wet with his stretched out wings lying limp at his sides. Dean watched him, had been watching him, as a small butterfly fluttered around the angel. 

With all his strength and much pain, Dean dragged himself onto land next to Castiel, falling onto his back and staring at the sky through the tree branches. All of the memories from before were still faded and confusing, but they began to clear, if only slightly. He could remember Cas... something about Cas. He was dying. He should be dead, right? That was his grace-he fucking glowed. Even after all that Dean had experienced in his lifetime, that- whatever the hell that even was- had never happened, not for him. He could remember, regretfully, all of the times he had to kill an angel and not once, not even once, had they done...that.

The sun was close to setting past the trees, painting the darkening sky with bright reds and oranges. Dean got to his feet, feeling a bit dryer than before, and head out to the entrance of the woods to gather firewood. It was growing increasingly darker, and being slightly tipsy didn't quite help his trek through the trees. There were countless times where he found himself nearly tripping over fallen branches and stones, or bumping into tree trunks. He was heading back towards where he and Cas had settled for the night when he heard his name being called. It was a loud, panicked shout, sounding as though it was filled with fear and worry. Dean stopped, eyes wide, before picking up his pace and rushing out of the woods. "CAS!" He called back. Some of the twigs he had collected fell out of his arms, but it didn't matter to him. Cas could be in trouble, could be hurt, or someone could have found him, and that's all that he could think about. Whatever had happened, there was so much adrenaline coursing through his veins that he was ready to take on any of it.

Cas was still sitting back on his rock by the time Dean returned to their site, hugging his legs with his large wings wrapped tightly around him, seeming absolutely terrified. "Cas!" Dean called. Cas' wings sprung out as he turned his head to where Dean was rushing over to him. He knelt down next to him after tossing the firewood aside, placing his arm on his shoulder and tracing it down his arm in an effort to comfort him. Cas let out slow breath, looking back up at Dean. "Cas, what's wrong? What happened?"  
"I couldn't find you..." Dean gave a small smile.  
"That's all?" Cas curled into himself, making him seem much smaller. He looked away, an embarrassed blush staining his cheeks.  
"I was...never alone in the dark before, Lucifer was always there with me." Cas seemed surprised when Dean had suddenly pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him and placing his hands just between his wings. He would normally refrain himself from getting himself so close to someone, especially someone he barely even knows, but just seeing that there were almost tears in the angel's eyes is what made him break.

Memories of Dean's childhood seemed to flood his mind, times when Sammy was only a few years old and Dean had to keep watch of him. He could remember his father, John, leaving the two of them in some old shack he found out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, telling him to take care of Sammy but not once telling him to take care of himself. There were too many nights where John would say he would return to them by morning, so Dean would wait. He would wait till morning, then the evening after, then nights and nights after that. John rarely ever returned at the times he set for them. Most nights after Dean had put little Sammy to sleep after so long of his baby brother complaining about the uncomfortable excuse for a bed, he would find himself sitting at the edge instead of putting himself to sleep. He wouldn't, couldn't, sleep for days, just waiting for his father to return. Too many nights he feared his father had died, whether it was from a hunt, a raid, or some freak accident, with no way of contacting him. When John did come back to him, he had made Dean so conflicted and confused as to whether or not he wanted his father to return or not. He had walked through the door of wherever he had dumped them intoxicated, stumbling through the door mumbling something under his breath, an almost empty bottle in his hand. Those were the nights Dean feared the most. There were times where Dean would find himself crying, worrying for his father, for Sam, and afraid something would come for them from the dark, but the nights John came to them drunk off his ass were the worst. The second he saw Dean, would would lose it, screaming at him, the empty bottle being smashed against the table, drunken words thrown across the room. Dean never mentioned it the next day, and John never apologized. To be honest, Dean only thought that as long as nothing happened to Sam, anything that happened to him didn't matter. That he didn't matter. That thought followed him throughout the rest of his childhood, forcing him to isolate himself throughout his teen years. He only fought with John once, and it was the worst mistake of his life. He still has the scars from that day, but those came after what John had did. He can still feel the glass stabbing into his rib cage. He can still feel the stress in his throat as he held back tears. He would never let John see him show weakness. He could remember the absolute anger in his father's voice when he shouted, screamed his name. Dean, you weak piece of shit. Dean, you're the reason Mary died. Dean, Dean! Dean!

"DEAN!" His instincts made him grab at the wrist connected to the hand touching his face. Reality snapped back in his mind, and he looked down to Cas' wide, worried eyes. "Dean, you...you're..." Dean used his other hand to check his face, finding tears just under his eyes.  
"I'm fine."  
"No, you're not."  
"Cas, I-" This time, it was Dean who was cut off but arms being thrown over his shoulders, lacing behind his neck. Cas' wings enveloped the two of them, and Dean couldn't help but bury his face in Cas' bare shoulder. He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be so weak, especially around someone like Cas, someone he barely knows, and yet...  
"No. You're not."  
"Why... why are you doing this?" Dean asked quietly. Cas only held him tighter.  
"You're hurt."  
"Cas, I was just remembering something. It's over, I'm fine."  
"No, Dean, I mean you're bleeding."  
"What?" Dean pulled back, almost falling over when he saw Cas' wings. They were hovering over them, the feathers spread out, making them seem much larger than they actually are, and they were fucking glowing. A bright white-blue light danced around the jet black feathers, drawing away from where the same light surrounded Dean's side. He hadn't noticed the blood soaking his clothes from before, most likely from rushing through the woods. "Oh my fucking-" He exclaimed, eyes wide, almost fearful.  
"Shh!" Cas practically jumped forward and clamped a hand over his mouth. "Calm down! It's fine, it just happens." Dean mumbled something against his hand. "What?" Dean gave him a dead look and Castiel finally released his hand.  
"But, how...how does it- how do you-" Cas placed his hand back over his mouth.  
"I'll explain, alright?" He sighed before continuing. "My wings, they've always been able to do, well, this. They help to heal, to grow. My brother, Lucifer, says that's why I have to stay in the tower. He says that other people, humans, demons, even angels, would kill to have my abilities. I'm not quite sure how it happens, I don't think I ever will." It was a moment after that Dean slowly removed Cas' hand from his mouth.  
"Why would anyone ever lock you up for something like that? That's...that's awesome, Cas! Do you realize how much you could help people?" Cas tilted his head at him.  
"But... Lucifer had always told me that the world was dangerous, that the people will hurt you?" It sounded more of a question the way it came out.  
"Well, yeah, sure, there's...some people out there that will. Hell, even I was a part of that."  
"And the war?" Dean turned his head back to him, a look of utter confusion upon his face.  
"What war?" Now it was Castiel's turn to mirror the confused look.  
"The war? The war between the angels and the demons?" Dean shook his head.  
"That ended...that ended hundred of years ago." Castiel furrowed his brows, shaking his head in return.  
"But... he said..." Dean placed his arm on Cas' shoulder.  
"Get some sleep. I'll start a fire and we can talk in the morning."  
"But Dean-"  
"Sleep, Cas." Dean commanded. Cas shut his mouth and gave a small smile. 

Dean tended the fire as Cas lied down a few feet beside him, using one of the layers of Dean's clothes as a pillow. He held his hands over the fire, testing it's strength. As he did so, he couldn't help but continue checking over his shoulder for Cas, who lied there with his back turned to him. There was definitely something wrong with the picture he gave him about his past. He had a gift of fucking healing, and he was locked up for that? And Cas? Dean just couldn't understand how someone could do such a thing to someone like him. Especially what it seemed to have done to him- Cas was just... off, in some way Dean couldn't point out. He was too innocent, too young at heart. Too much heart. The way Cas had looked at him earlier, with so much fear over even the simplest things, but most importantly, it was because he was alone. Alone with no protection. He was too vulnerable, it was almost painful. 

And of his brother, Lucifer? Dean already had a long list of things he'd like to say and do to him. Just thinking of how insecure and small that Cas was now, how his brother was probably the cause of all of it, it set something cold in his chest. The poor guy was practically traumatized, he could see it in his eyes the further they traveled from the tower. The way he was so hesitant, so troubled over going back, it was so obvious.

Dean found himself staring at the fire for another half hour after he said he would lie down. He always found himself like this, letting his train of thought get the best of him. He turned back to Cas, who was now facing him, his wings lying behind him. Dean smiled to himself- Cas just looked so peaceful, and he deserved it. He found himself sneaking next to him, his back to Cas with no less than a foot between them. He closed his eyes, couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort from the warmth of Cas' body and the fire next to him. Dean had almost let himself fall asleep when he felt the weight of several feathers over his side. "Dean?" He heard Cas ask sleepily. Dean rolled over to face the waking angel.  
"Yeah Cas?" He responded quietly.  
"What did you mean earlier?"  
"What about?" Dean yawned.  
"In the cave? About not being human?" Oh no. Dean had sincerely hoped that Cas hadn't remembered that, the thought had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since it came back to him. Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and gesturing Cas to sit up with him. They leaned against the collection of rocks, Dean staring at the fire as he could feel Cas' eyes on him. Dean did so for nearly a minute, finding it hard to find the right words. Instead, he just rolled up the sleeve to his right arm. Cas tilted his head at the small red mark on his arm- it looked like seven with two small dots under the top line. "What is it?" Cas asked.  
"It's a mark. The Mark of Cain. It uh...I got it when I was about thirteen."  
"But...what does that have to do with you not being human?" Dean sighed again, looking further away before turning back to Cas, resting his hand on the angel's arm.  
"Cas? Promise me you won't hate me for this?"  
"What do you... yes Dean, I promise. Nothing could change what I think of you." Dean stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tried to pass off the sincere look in Cas' eyes. He didn't know if he could do it or not, even though he had only just met Cas, so much could change between them. The same hand on the same shoulder Cas has scarred on him was all it took to regain his strength. Dean took a deep breath, looking right at Cas before closing his eyes. When he opened them, he could see Cas' expression falter only slightly, only a blink of his eyes. He knew what Cas was seeing, he had seen it so many times in the mirror, felt the disappointment and self hatred that came with it, and yet the angel hadn't even flinched. "Dean..." Cas' eyes widened enough for Dean to be able to see his own black eyes in their reflection. "How did this happen?"  
"My...my dad, he... He just wanted me to be better. He thought that maybe this," he rubbed his thumb over the mark, "would make me better at the job. All he wanted was to find the one who killed my mom."  
"Dean... I'm so sorry. But, what made you think this would change anything?"  
"But- but I'm-"  
"A demon?"  
"Exactly!"  
"Dean, I don't care what you are, all that matters is who you are." Dean stopped again, Cas eyes looking deep into him.  
"You...you actually mean that?"  
"Of course. And so far, well, you know I enjoy our talks. Our time together."  
"I- I thought you were...afraid?"  
"Well, yes, of course I'm afraid."  
"So why are you..." Dean's question was cut off by Cas' yawning. "You know what? Let's head to bed." Cas nodded as he stretched out, then slipping down with Dean, facing him. Dean didn't protest when the angel covered the two of them his wing. He could feel Cas' breathing slow against his neck, making Dean drift off along with him. Even though he knew he shouldn't be letting himself get so close to someone so quickly, it just felt...right in a way. He was too comfortable to deny it. Only after a few minutes of closing his eyes and Cas' warm wings comforting him, Dean found himself asleep faster than he had his entire life.

~~~  
The sound of a blade being extracted from its sheath is what woke him the next morning. Dean blinked away the sleepy blur of his vision to find the point of the blade in his face, the body of a tall man hovering over him. Dean just smiled smugly. "Looks like I found a stray moose in the woods, huh? I don't suppose you came here to apologize for running off?"

~~~  
Castiel awoke to find the warm heat from Dean no longer surrounding him. His brain set him into a state of panic, of too many questions running through his mind. Where's Dean? What happened? Is he hurt? Did he abandon me? What's going on? What do I do? He suddenly found it hard to breathe, his wings spread out in alarm as he spun around, looking for the man. "Dean? DEAN?" He called out. There was no response. 

Castiel found himself jumping up and down with his wings flapping frantically behind him, attempting to catch air so he could set out on finding Dean. It took him a few moments before finally giving up. He curled himself up on the ground, wrapping his wings around him, sheltering himself from the world. From between the feathers of his wings, he could see large boot prints engraved in the dirt. They seemed too big to belong to Dean. Had something happened to him? What is he going to- Castiel closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Now was not the time for another anxiety attack. As he got to his feet, he reached for a large fallen branch along the path of footprints and took off, his wings spread out in warning in case anything happened to come at him.

The boot prints led him deeper into the woods, and Castiel had noticed a few of Dean's belongings spread out next to the trail. Something had definitely happened. Castiel found himself growing more and more aware of his surroundings the further in he went, his wings twitching at even the tiniest sound. He tried not to get himself distracted with the small animals that roamed the woods, having to remind himself several times of what his true intentions were. He once came across a young deer, but instead of running away like most do, the small animal only followed him for a few more yards before going off the trail and back to its nearby mother.

Eventually, the trail of boot prints came to a stop, and Castiel looked forward to find Dean, tied to a large tree. His hand weakly raised where his arms were tied up, giving a nervous smile. "Heya Cas."  
"Dean?" Castiel couldn't understand why Dean's eyes had widened, shaking his head. The angel suddenly found himself pinned against the opposite tree, a knife to his throat. A tall man stood over him, kicking aside the branch that Castiel had dropped. From behind him, Dean only rolled his eyes.  
"He's good, Sammy, let him go." The man turned his head to Dean.  
"Who is he?" He asked sharply.  
"Sam, meet Cas, Cas, meet Sam." Sam looked back to Castiel before dropping the arm pinning him down and Castiel fell against the tree and to the ground. Sam turned angrily to Dean and went to him, slashing the ropes tying him down before shoving him against the tree.  
"You left us to die, you jerk!"  
"Nice to see you too, bitch. Speaking of, what happened to the douche?"  
"Adam was caught, thanks to someone."  
"Yeah, well, that's what he gets for backstabbing me the last time."  
"All he did was eat your freaking pie, Dean!"  
"Back-stab-er." 

The two of them continued arguing for several minutes, seeming to forget that Castiel was even there. From behind him, Castiel could hear something rusting in the bushes, growing louder the closer it came. The angel peered around the tree, then looked back to the arguing brothers, eyes wide. "Dean?" Neither of them even gave a glance in his direction. Castiel spread his wings in alarm when the sound of twigs snapping became even louder. "Dean! Sam!" Their heads turned to him simultaneously.  
"What?" Castiel's wings twitched as the noises suddenly stopped, replaced by a low growling. The brothers stepped back, both reaching for their blades hanging in their belts. Looking over his shoulder, Castiel watched as a large creature creeper through the bushes, its deep black coat covered in blood, bright red eyes narrowed in their direction, snarling at them with its blood stained teeth. "Cas," Dean said quietly, raising his hand, "you need to get back. Now." Cas kept his wings spread out, stepping backwards towards the two. Dean raised his blade as the thing came closer.  
"What is it?" Castiel asked quietly.  
"Hell Hound. Cas, we need to go."  
"Hang on." Castiel lowered his wings, bending down. The Hell Hound barked, growing ferociously at him. Castiel held out a hand.  
"Cas, no! What are you doing? Don't try negotiating with the damn thing!" Dean said in a hushed tone. The Hell Hound pawed at the ground, snapping in Cas' direction. 

Everything happened too quickly. "CAS!"


	7. Scars

Everything had happened too quickly. The brothers had extracted their blades just as the Hell Hound moved closer to Castiel, taking a step closer as it went for Castiel's outstretched hand. The Hell Hound growled and snarled it's yellow teeth, eyeing Castiel down. The Winchesters tripped backwards, eyes wide with fear as the monster finally pounced forward. It pinned Castiel down, and with his blade now out of reach, there was nothing Dean could find himself to do. "CAS!" Dean shouted. The Hell Hound was on top of him, about to attack, and Castiel was...laughing?

Castiel was grinning wider than Dean had ever seen from him before, sitting back up from underneath the Hell Hound while scratching behind its torn ear, the animal panting and wagging its tail. Castiel was murmuring soft encouragements to it, and the Hell Hound sat down and began to sniff at his hair before licking the side of his face. Castiel lowered his hand down to rub the Hell Hound's shoulder blades, and it rolled over onto its back for the angel to scratch it's belly. "Oh, you're such a good girl, aren't you?" Castiel said softly. The animal began kicking its leg as Castiel tickled her.  
"That's a girl?!" Sam asked, shocked.  
"Of course. And a happy one too, aren't you?" Cas began scratching behind the Hell Hound's crooked ears.  
"What..." Sam trailed off.  
"The hell, "Dean finished. The Hell Hound stopped its happily panting to growl at the two of them.  
"Hey, don't be like that," Cas said to the Hell Hound, "they're good men, you shouldn't be so mean."  
"Cas...how in hell are you doing that?" Sam asked, completely awestruck.  
"Doing what?" Cas replied.  
"It- it should be trying to kill you!"  
"Oh, she's a little sweetheart, just misunderstood."  
"Misunder- oh my god." Sam cut himself off. He'd only just met this angel and was already confused as fuck. Dean looked over to him, shrugging his shoulders and giving a sheepish smile.

Castiel looked under the Hell Hound's ragged fur-covered neck, searching for something. Around her neck was a thick collar made of some animal's hide, with a flattened stone dangling off of the center. "She's tagged," Cas said, holding it in his palm. "There's something engraved- no name on front, but-" he flipped it over, "there's a 'C' on the back."  
"So someone owns her," Sam stated.  
"Who the hell would want to own a Hell Hound?" Dean asked. He glanced over to Cas, who was giving him the best set of puppy eyes that not even Sam could be able to top. "Other than Cas. But he would own even a freaking bee if he really wanted to."  
"I do." Dean looked over to him, eyebrows raised.  
"No. Really? You're kidding me."  
"Well, maybe not own, but they come to visit sometimes."  
"They?"  
"Guys!" Sam interrupted. Both Dean and Cas looked over to him. "Don't you think we should, oh, I don't know, maybe find a way out of here?" After a moment, Castiel squinted, looking up at the sky. It was only near to noon, judging by the sun's position, but already the sky was beginning to darken with clouds rolling overhead.  
"I don't think that would be a wise decision at this point." Dean's eyes followed Cas' direction.  
"Yeah, it's gonna start pouring soon. You know the things that come out during the rain."  
"What do you mean?" Castiel tilted his head, questioning Dean's statement. Dean looked back to him.  
"Lets just hope you don't have to find out."

~~~

A light rain had begun to drum against the shelter Sam had led them to that he had passed previously, a simple, run down barn that had been taken over by trees and vines. Dean had taken apart a few unnecessary, broken down boards of wood and threw them in the center, taking some flint from his pocket and his steel ring to set some sparks to the planks. Cas hadn't spoken much since they arrived, mostly lying down on his stomach with a single wing blanketing the sleeping Hell Hound in the corner. Sam tried conversing with the angel, though eventually left Cas to himself when he rarely responded to his questions. Dean had to clear up Cas' story to Sam for himself, from the major events to even the tiniest details that he's learned about him along the way. Dean hovered his palms over the growing fire in the center of the dirt floor as Sam and Castiel sat opposite of each other. Once he was finished, Dean sat with a sigh next to his brother. "So, Sammy..." he started, "how'd you end up here?"  
"What, you mean after you ditched me?"  
"Sam," Dean said, sounding exasperated.  
"What Dean?" Sam snapped. "What exactly is it?"  
"I just- I had to, ok?"  
"You HAD to?!" Sam stood up, leaving Dean on the floor. "Dean, I nearly DIED! They got Adam-"  
"He deserved it."  
"No, he didn't, Dean! He was a kid! He didn't deserve any of it! Now they're gonna put him through some sort of hell-like torture because of YOUR stupidity!" Dean shot up with him, getting in his face.  
"I had to get the bag outta there, Sam! It was gonna pay off anyway!"  
"Pay off?! PAY OFF?! Our brother was TAKEN!"  
"He was just slowing us down! Even dad said so!"  
"Yeah, and you know what dad is? Not here! He's-"  
"Don't you fucking dare say it, Sam."  
"Dead! He's DEAD!" Dean was ever so close to landing a punch to his brother's face when his eyes darted towards the angel still on the dirt floor. Cas had his arms wrapped around his knees, his dark wings surrounding his shoulders. He hadn't made a single sound this whole time, hadn't looked at them once, just staring blankly into the fire. Dean wasn't sure if he was even breathing.  
"Cas?" Dean asked quietly. Cas still hadn't looked up, even when he Crouse down next to him. He rubbed a hand softly on the bare spot between his wings, shushing him quietly. He noticed Cas' breathing was shaky and ragged. "Cas, what's wrong?" Slowly, Castiel turned to face him, his eyes still wide and blank yet filled with too many emotions for Dean to decipher.  
"Please stop fighting." Cas said, his voice small, like a child's. That's what made Dean's steel protected heart snap. He wrapped his arms around him, noting how Cas tensed at first, then released to weakly place his hands on Dean's back.  
"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't know you were-" Dean slowly pulled back, a cold look settling in his eyes. "What happened to you, Cas?"  
"What? What do you mean?" Cas tilted his head slightly.  
"What did he do to you." Dean demanded. It barely sounded like a question. It was too bitter, too hurt, to be a question.  
"You mean Lucifer," Castiel realized. "But, he didn't...He didn't do anything to me."  
"Yeah? Turn around."  
"Dean, I-"  
"Turn the fuck around, Cas." Dean said sharply. He tried to ignore the sudden look of hurt in Cas' eyes before he shuffled around to show Dean his back. Even Sam knew what he was going for, and he heard his brother gasp quietly behind him. Dean pushed back a clump of stray feathers growing awkwardly on his back, obviously not meant to settle that way. Underneath them were scars deeper than even the many he bore on his skin. His hands searched further up the spine of his wing, feeling a blow to his chest every time Cas made a small noise of pain when he touched a certain spot of muscle. "Son of a bitch," Dean muttered under his breath.  
"Dean, please don't be-"  
"I'll fucking KILL HIM!" Cas jumped when Dean screamed against his shoulder blade, resting his forehead there after he punched the dirt. Castiel turned back to face him, eyes still wide and staring at him. "It's no wonder you're so fucked up!"  
"Dean!" Sam shouted.  
"No, Sam, it's true! Look at him! He's got the anxiety of a fucking mental patient! He practically was one! That bitch locked him up for his entire fucking life, and to make it worse, he fucking BEAT him!"  
"Dean, no, it wasn't like-" Cas said quietly.  
"Hell no, Cas! He's brainwashed you! Why can't you see that?!"  
"The scars- they were all accidents, Dean!" Dean came down closer to the angel, placing his hand on his shoulder and tracing it down his arm in a gentle manner, slowly sobering from his anger.  
"Cas...scars like that don't come from accidents. I...I should know." Castiel watched him for a moment before Dean could see him take a sharp intake of breath, eyes starting to shine with tears.  
"Dean... you weren't..." Dean looked down, slightly nodding. "I'm sorry, Dean..."  
"No, Cas. I'm the one who's sorry. You know why? Because I know exactly why he did it."  
"Lucifer?" Dean nodded again.  
"The same reason my...that my dad did it to me."  
"Obedience," Sam said quietly. They both looked to Cas, who had a tear streaming down his face.  
"Do you see it now?" Dean asked.  
"Dean...please..." Cas whispered, shaking his head.  
"It's why you can't f-"  
"Shut UP!" Cas shouted, grabbing handfuls of hair and finding himself in his wings. "Just stop!"  
"Dean-" Sam said from behind him. Dean looked over his shoulder, Sam giving him all he needs to know with a single look of his brother's eyes. Even with all of his instincts telling him otherwise, Dean stepped back, allowing Castiel to himself. 

Cas eventually fell asleep, a whining Hell Hound coming to comfort him after she noticed something was wrong. Sam and Dean were left in silence with the crackling fire, dying with time. Eventually, Dean knew he had to break the silence. "You never did answer my question earlier. How'd you get here?"  
"I just escaped," Sam replied, shrugging. Dean gave him a dead look, not buying it. Sam, closed his eyes and sighed, giving in. "Ok, fine. I, uh...met someone, along the way."  
"What kind of someone?"  
"She- her name was Ruby. I don't really know how it happened, but I just found her, in the woods. More like she found me, but...she just offered to help me. Then she was on her way."  
"Wait, so some girl you find in the woods offers you help in escape, and you just take it? No questions asked?"  
"Of course I had questions, Dean. But everything was happening so fast, I didn't have time. When I went back to thank her, she was just...gone." Sam took a moment before reaching into his pocket. "Although...she did leave me this." He pulled put a small vial filled with deep red liquid attached to a string. "I don't know what it is, and I don't know what it's for, but she said it's useful, so- hey!" Dean took the vial and threw it into the fire. "What was that for?"  
"She's obviously a demon, I mean, come on! She does you a favor and offers you one in return? That's always a trick, Sam! You can't trust shit like that!"  
"But, we don't even know what it was!"  
"Blood, Sam. Demon blood. I know the gag, I've been there. You remember the first few weeks I got this?" Dean exposed his arm to Sam, showing him the red mark. "I was addicted to that crap. Once you get your fix, you never stop. Do you know how hard it was for me? It took years, Sam."  
"Ok! Ok! I get it! Don't trust hot women in the woods!"  
"Wait, you never told me she was hot."  
"Dean, don't you have a boyfriend kinda taking a nap right over there?" Sam gestured towards Cas, who was still resting peacefully with the Hell Hound.  
"He's not my boyfriend." Somehow, ever since he was a kid, Sam could pull off the perfect bitch face that could put anyone in silence. The same one he was pulling right now.  
"Yeah, ok. Sure. So you telling me absolutely every single detail about him for a straight half hour actually wasn't you finally coming out to me?"  
"Sam-"  
"You know, I'm pretty sure he'd be really flattered if you actually said all that stuff to his face."  
"He would barely catch it, anyway. He hardly understands anything." Dean glanced over to the sleeping angel another time. "He's still got a lot to learn."


	8. Taking on the Road

"Hey there, sunshine," were the first words Castiel heard as he awoke. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't blink away the blurry, sleepy vision. The room was much cooler than last night, the fire obviously had died since then. Everything was so dark around him with only a few beams of light seeping through the broken boards. Even so, he could recognize the bright green eyes anywhere.  
"Dean," Castiel said, smiling. Dean smiled back, eyes crinkling when he looked at him. He reached a hand out to map Dean's face, thumb running over his cheekbone, then to his jawline. Yawning, and shuffled forward and buried his face in the material of Dean's shirt.   
"Cas, you gotta get up sometime." Dean said.  
"No."Castiel's heart skipped a beat when Dean's laugh vibrated through his chest, and moving backwards he couldn't help but set his gaze deeper into Dean's eyes, couldn't stop finding himself lost in them.   
"So, not your boyfriend, eh Dean?" The angel jumped up, wide eyes locking on the man slumped against the wall, smiling down on them.  
"Sam!" Castiel exclaimed. His wings spread out in surprise, nearly hitting Dean in the side of the face as he sat up as well. Sam only chuckled, arms crossed.  
"You two ready to hit the road yet? Or should I go and close the door for you for about ten minutes?" Castiel could have sworn a few of his own stray hairs could have burned off from the glare Dean was holding from behind him, eyes set on his brother.  
"Says the one who once spent twenty on one side of his hair." Dean said while standing up.  
"I was going out with-" Cas could see how Sam had stopped, the way his eyes went cold for a moment before giving a cough and turning to the door. It wasn't until he had shut the broken down door behind him that Castiel looked to Dean.  
"What happened to him?" He whispered, looking up at him. Dean just shook his head.  
"He doesn't like to talk about it."

~~~

They all hit the trail to what Sam said was to a village connected to the city. The Hell Hound followed with them, occasionally running off chasing a squirrel or digging at moles in the ground. Castiel's mind seemed to stick on the earlier event, couldn't stop his worry for Dean's little brother. The two of them had been through so much, what else is there they wouldn't speak of? Dean had told him one of his greatest secrets and, now looking back to it, it meant so much to be one of the only people (using the term loosely) to have been told. If that was Dean's, what on the face of the earth could Sam's be?

Castiel eventually trotted forward from Dean's side to catch up with Sam. Looking upward, he tugged at the taller man's sleeve. "Sam?"  
"Yeah, Castel?" Sam asked.  
"It's Cast-ee-el." Castiel corrected. "Cas is fine as well, if it's easier." He could see Dean grinning smugly behind him from over his shoulder.  
"Ok, Cas. What's up?"  
"I just...wanted to know if you're...Ok?" Sam looked down to him, looking a mix of surprised and confused.  
"Yeah? Why?"  
"You just...seemed a little..." Sam looked away, rolling his eyes.  
"Looks like Dean's rubbed off on you, that nosy son of a bitch." Cas' eyes widened, taking a step back.  
"I- am- am I being nosy?" He stuttered. Sam looked back to him.  
"No! No, not at all!"  
"Oh, I'm- I'm sorry, I just-"  
"You did nothing wrong, Cas," Sam smiled at him, "no need to apologize." Cas stopped, looking up at him, mouth slightly parted. No one has ever responded to his constant apologies-Lucifer had mostly answered with "stop saying sorry all the time," which, to be honest, only made him feel worse. Cas was starting to think about what Dean had said before about him, about how Lucifer was abusing him. He never truly acknowledged it before, but now...  
"Thank you, Sam," he said, his voice breaking a bit as he spoke.   
"If you don't mind me asking..."Sam said, "what happened to you?"  
"I don't understand."  
"I mean...in the tower that Dean told me about, where you live .You just seem so..."  
"Awkward," Cas said quietly, looking down at his traveling feet. "I've never left, not until now. It was just me and Lucifer. The rest of the world, he told me, is so terrifying. I believe I just let it get to my head."  
"Well, I wouldn't say that." Cas looked up at him, tilting his head.  
"What else would it be?"  
"I mean, the world actually is terrifying, and for someone who's never even touched the ground, it's got to be even worse. Add that with anxiety and, well, innocence, I'm kinda surprised you made it this far." Castiel squinted his eyes at Sam.  
"Is that supposed to be encouraging?" Sam shrugged.  
"Could be."   
"Alright...then...thank you, Sam." There was a moment of silence where only the sounds of snapping twigs and crunching dead leaves filled the air around them before Castiel continued. "Sam..."  
"Yeah, Castiel?"  
"If I am allowed to bring this up...what happened to you two?" Sam laughed quietly, then looking down to him.  
"It's uh...it's a long story." Of course it was. Castiel nodded, stepping back. 

He slowed down his step enough so that he was now next to Dean again, keeping at his pace. Castiel was too lost in his own thoughts that it startled him when Dean nudged his shoulder. He sharply turned his head to him in alarm. "You ready to head into town?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded slowly, not really thinking about it. He was too caught up thinking about the boys. About what he's doing, why he ever had to know them. What he's doing here. "You sure?" Dean continued.   
"Hmm?"  
"Are you even listening?"  
"Mmhhm..."  
"Cas, come on, look at me." Dean stopped in his tracks, causing Castiel to stop as well.  
"Yes? What is it Dean?"  
"Are you sure you're okay with heading into the village?" Castiel just shrugged.  
"It's what we came for, isn't it?" The corner of Dean's mouth raised in a small smile.  
"Ok, as long as you're OK with it." Dean began to walk forward down the trail along with his brother. Castiel hadn't moved.  
"Dean?" Castiel asked, looking down at the ground. Dean looked back at him over his shoulder, not stopping.  
"Yeah?" Castiel dug his toe into the dirt.  
"Why...why do you care so much? About me?" Dean then stopped on the path, shrugging it off before continuing on.  
"Who wouldn't?" He replied casually.   
"I just..." Castiel clawed his nails into his arm, leaving marks. "I don't want you doing this because of...because of what's wrong with me." This time, both Dean and Sam halted, turning back to him. Castiel didn't look up at either of them.  
"I don't..." Dean started, "There's nothing wrong with you."  
"But there is!" Castiel shouted. He tried swallowing down the tightness in his throat. "I can't help thinking that...that you're doing this over pity. I shouldn't have ever asked you for anything, I should have just-just-"  
"Whoa, whoa, hey," Dean ran back to him, first planting a hand on the angel's shoulder, then giving in and pulling him into his arms. "Cas, hey, it's alright."  
"No, it's not, Dean," Castiel took in a deep breath,"I shouldn't be here, I should never had done this, I-"  
"Do you want to go home?" That was just the thing. He didn't want to go home. But yes, he did. One part of him felt absolutely thrilled to be here, with someone who will help him through it all. He wanted to do absolutely everything now that he was here, wanted Dean and Sam to teach him everything they know, to take him everywhere. The other part made him want to just shut down, to cry until there was nothing left of him, to just let this mental breakdown he's been struggling to hold back just finally consume him. It terrified him.  
"No, Dean. No I don't." Castiel finally responded. He didn't want them to feel like he's the one who dragged them all the way out here, all for nothing. He'll take hell later. For now, he was going through with it, even if it killed him.


	9. The Village

Castiel could hear the sounds of the town much faster than the others seemed to notice, picking up speed with his wings behind him as Sam and Dean ran to catch up with him. By the time the brothers had caught up with him, he was clinging to the side of a tree at the edge of the woods and the two nearly bent over, panting from the steep slope of the hill. His eyes lightened in wonder, he allowed Sam and Dean to take lead in front of him to the large village. The path started over a bridge, where Castiel had found Dean having to hold him back when he jumped up to look over a bit too excitedly. Just past the little cobblestone bridge lied several shops and carts all over the edges of the path. Large banners hung over the unlit streetlights, along with brightly coloured flags flowing in the sift breeze. The sun was just past the center of the sky, its light capturing the sights perfectly. 

 

As much as Castiel felt the urge to just run off and explore, to meet everyone, to take in everything, he found himself nearly hiding behind Dean when they first entered the village. He looked up to the man with a still, emotionless face, but his eyes told Dean everything. Dean gave a small smile and offered his hand. Castiel found himself reaching straight for it, intertwining their fingers together until they fit just perfectly. Castiel smiled back to him. Though it may seem like such a small gesture to Dean, Castiel had learned more about him in past twenty-four hours to know that it meant everything.

 

There were so many people wandering about the streets, from men and women in shops to children playing and squealing in the streets. Castiel found himself shuffling closer to Dean when a young girl approached him, in awe with his wings. A blush stained his cheeks and he smiled, crouching down so that she could feel them. Another girl, her sister, she explained, came to join her to adore the black feathers. "You go along with them, Cas, Sam and I'll be right back," Dean said. Castiel nodded, smiling, and followed the two little girls to a fountain to sit on. He found it much easier to get along with children than with adults, thankfully.

 

Sam and Dean returned nearly ten minutes later, arms full with appeared to be groceries. When they laid eyes on Castiel, they both had very different reactions. Sam just smiled, and in a way that told him that he was honestly happy with what he was seeing. Dean, however, his eyes widened at the sight, then turned to glare at his brother. "Did you make them do this?" Dean asked. Sam just smiled, then shrugged. "Son of a bitch."  
"You don't like it?" Castiel asked. The angel played at one of the pale blue flowers weaved into his feathers.   
"It's not that, it's just..." Dean stared at his wings, even now less messy, for another moment before his eyes softened. "You know what? Yeah, I do."   
"Come over here, then." Castiel suggested. He could see the answer already on Dean's face, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.  
"Actually, I-"  
"Come on!" The girls, Amelia and Clara, pleaded. "Please?" 

 

That was how both Dean and Sam ended up sitting beside Castiel as Clara and Amelia went working multicolored flowers, Clara taking a generous amount of pink and purple into a flower crown for Dean, while Amelia simply braided them into Sam's hair. Castiel said goodbye once they were finished, thanking them, and heading off further into the village with the boys. "I can't believe I have to go around wearing this," Dean complained, pointing at the colored flowers on his head. "I'm taking this off once we get out of here."  
"Please don't," Castiel said, actually taking some of the many blue flowers from his wings and adding them to the flower crown.  
"It suits you," Sam said.  
"Says the flower nymph over here." Sam just flipped his long hair, braid and flowers included. 

 

After a moment, Dean reached a hand into the basket he was carrying and tossed something, a muffin, to Cas. "Here, up haven't seen you eat in a while." Castiel took no time at all before taking nearly half of it into his mouth. "Jesus Christ, Cas, slow down! You're gonna choke!" Castiel just shrugged.  
"I'm hungry," he said around his breakfast.  
"You could have said something earlier."  
"I didn't want to bother you."   
"Oh my god, Cas- that's it, follow me." He took Castiel's hand again, taking him further down the street. They stopped just a few shops down to what Dean said was a bakery, telling Castiel to "sit his ass down" before he went to buy something.   
"Didn't he just b-" Sam raised a hand to stop him.  
"Just let him do his thing, he's too stubborn to back down now." A few minutes later, setting down a pie larger than Castiel had thought possible on the table. "Oh my god," Sam said, disgusted. "Dean, you're gonna die in ten years if you keep this up!"  
"And it will be a good ten years, thank you very much," Dean said smugly. Sam just sighed, shaking his head. Even so, he grabbed a fork and stabbed towards the edge before shoveling it into his mouth. Castiel just sat still even after Dean handed him his fork. "What'da wait'n for?" Dean asked around his mouthful of pie.  
"Do I just-?" He watched Dean's behavior carefully before copying his actions, piling his fork completely with pie and shoving it into his mouth. By the second time in he already had syrup sticking to his face.  
"Dear God, you've ruined him," Sam said, watching how Cas mimicked Dean's behavior. Dean shrugged, smiling.  
"Good."  
"You're crazy, Dean."  
"Crazy equals genius, little brother."  
"Shut the hell up, you two." Both Dean and Sam jerked their heads up to look at the angel. Sam pushed his chair back and stood up, walking out of the shop altogether as Dean laughed and slapped Cas on the back.

 

By the time Dean and Castiel had left the bakery, it was already midday and Sam was waiting for them outside the doors. "Took you long enough," he said.  
"Like you have room to talk, Moose. Do I have to remind you again about how long you take on that mop of yours?"  
"Point taken." Sam crossed his arms. "Let's get going."  
"On it, Samsquatch." Dean said, moving ahead.

 

The three traveled further into the village until they reached the main city, with even more people and even more noise, to Castiel's distaste. Even so, he kept quiet and followed Sam and Dean to wherever they planned to stop next.

 

Castiel could suddenly feel a chill down his spine, his feathers standing on end. He looked over his shoulder, but only the townspeople were behind him, going about their daily lives. He decided to catch up with the boys, just in case, to find they were a bit further ahead, talking as they walked down the street. The second he put his foot back to the cobblestone to reach them, there was a hand over his mouth. Castiel tried to scream out as he was backwards off of his feet behind him, the dark shadowy alleyway being the last thing he saw before he felt something stab his neck and fainting.


	10. Missing

There were hushed voices all around the room when he finally awoke. When he opened his eyes, a rush of pain flooded his head, pulsating red into his vision and making it hard to breathe. Everything was blurry, fading in and out, and there was a strong odor shrinking the heavy air. Little to no light lit whatever room he was in. Trying his best to move, Castiel found he was tied down to a rope digging into his wrists. Karma was a bitch to him.

The sound of footsteps grew closer to him, and Castiel, being too weak at the moment to even lift his head, couldn't fight back. A scared whimper escaped his throat when whoever it was behind him sunk even more little needles into his neck, puncturing his skin. There a heated breathing against his neck as they did so. Castiel could see the light of his grace escape from the holes and something wet- his own blood- seeping out once the figure retreated.

~~~

Shit. Holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit.  
How the hell could he let this happen?   
Dean began to have the worst panic attack he'd had in years, chasing his footsteps in a desperate effort to find the angel. He accidentally ran into several people as he searched for Cas, hearing his brother shouting apologies behind him. He just didn't have the time to do so himself. 

Dean's heart was racing at a mile a minute, suddenly realizing how Cas must have felt his entire time coming with him. Shit. He should never have done this to him. Everything around him was blurry, and so god damn loud, he could barely focus on anything. All he could think about was Cas. How scared he must be, what happened to him, what's happening to him right now. How much he must hate Dean for bringing him into this. 

He found himself screaming out Cas' name louder and louder, becoming more and more desperate. Maybe the angel just got lost? Maybe he got distracted? Keeping those thoughts in mind seemed to help. Then again...what if he's being tortured? Enslaved? Killed? How much longer does Dean have to find him? He pulled at his own hair, his throat tightening, making it hard to breathe. Not Cas. Anyone but him. Just a day ago Dean had never even knew him, but now... He just can't lose him.

"Dean!" He turned to his brother's call. Even though his head was pounding and blood and adrenaline were clouding his vision, he watched as Sam picked up one of the blue flowers off of the cobblestone street, just inside a darkened alleyway. Dean took no time at all before he pushed past his brother, a knife already in hand, and took off out of sight into the alley.

~~~

Another gasp escaped his throat as the sharp object stabbed at the same spot on his throat, his blood draining from out from the wounds as something else lapped it up. Castiel couldn't see anymore, couldn't feel anything, couldn't even think straight the more the blood poured out. He could hear someone whisper something in his ear once his blood had stopped draining from his body, but none of it made sense anymore. Castiel only assumed it was another pet-like encouragement from before. 

A sudden burst of light came from what must have been a door, along with another silhouette busting through. The next thing he knew, the figure in front of him had screamed out, the new figure cutting off its head and letting it fall to the floor. Another came through the door frame, going towards the figure supposedly behind him. The one from before crouched down to him, Castiel could feel their hands working on the knot behind him. Once his hands were free, the one in front of him placed a hand on the side of his face, then he could feel his body being placed in the person's arms. Once lifted, everything rushed to his head. His surroundings went even more blurry than before, a loud ringing in his head, and then just...silence.


	11. The Witch

"Cas?" Castiel blinked, slowly opening his eyes. "Cas!" He was suddenly being jerked up from his lying/sitting position and into Dean's arms, taking a moment before placing his limp arms onto Dean's back.   
"Dean," Castiel whispered, barely audible, burying his face into the crook of Dean's neck.  
"How you feeling?" he heard Sam ask.  
"I'm..." Castiel looked around at his surroundings, confused. "Ok?" No matter how hard he tried, any memory from before was faded, or nonexistent. All he could remember was following Sam and Dean into the village, and now...now he's just here. Whatever had happened, judging by their reactions. He was in a completely different place than before, this place very posh, very warm and comfortable. He was sitting down on a small bed, a fire burning in a fireplace next to him, and rows and rows of books filled the walls. On a table behind Dean were several multicolored liquids in vials and bottles, some of them bubbling and fizzing. "Where am I?" He asked, moving back from Dean. Dean was interrupted before he could answer.  
"Ah, it's good to see the boy up and moving." Castiel looked behind Dean to see a woman entering the room. "Hello there, angel." Her accent was unrecognizable, at least for him. The woman's bright red locks practically flowed as she walked. She bent down in front of his face, and Castiel could see her face clearly now. She pressed her dark red lips into a line as she placed a pale hand to his forehead. "Good, good. He's much better now than when you boys brought him in." She smiled, standing up. "Castiel, isn't it? The name's Rowena," she said, holding out her hand. Castiel only stared at it. "Oh, go on now. I saved your life, I deserve a simple gesture." Castiel looked up at her, watching her face as he reached for her hand. She lead him up to his feet, still taking his hand loosely to follow her. Castiel looked to Dean in panic.  
"Don't worry, Cas," Dean said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "it won't be like last time, she's here to help." He watched Dean's expression carefully. He was speaking nothing but the truth. Castiel's eyes softened, nodding before turning to Rowena.

She took him to another, smaller room, having him sit on the plush sofa pushed against the wall. On the table in front of them, Rowena handled a large teapot, pouring the hot liquid into two cups sitting next to it. "Do you take sugar?" She asked, not looking up as she set the teapot down. Castiel found himself at a loss, his tongue tied and tripping over his words.  
"I- yes, that-that's fine."   
"Now, dear, there's no reason to be nervous."  
"I apologize," Castiel said, looking away.  
"No need to. Go on, then." She handed him his cup of tea once she placed the cubes of sugar into the liquid. Castiel took it cautiously, blowing into it gently before pressing the rim to his lips. "So, Castiel," Rowena started, "tell me bout' yourself." The angel stopped, placing the cup back down on the small table.   
"I- I really don't..."  
"Oh, that's alright," Rowena said, raising both hands. "Well, I'm surprised you haven't asked what I am yet. Your friends seemed very eager to get it out of me." She had a look of disgust on her face as she spoke.  
"What are you?" Castiel asked, taking another sip of his tea. Rowena leaned in.  
"A witch," she whispered for effect, a mischievous smile on her face. Castiel thought back, remembering a time when Lucifer had taught him about witches. He would speak of their potential, of how they used it against others, about their dark magic capable of almost anything, even slaughtering any living being. By the way he spoke of them, it was obvious that Castiel shouldn't trust them. At this point, however, he found himself doubting a lot of things.  
"A witch?" He responded. Rowena nodded, still smiling.  
"Leader of my coven. Proud of it too."  
"Is it nice?" Castiel looked up to see her expression change, as if she were surprised at his question.  
"It has its perks. Some of the other witches, though, they can be a real..."  
"Bitch?" Rowena outright laughed at his contribution.  
"And here those two told me you were the innocent one!" Castiel smiled, looking down at his cup. "Speaking of innocence, what happened to you?" She looped a finger around a hole in his dirtied white wrap, which Castiel hadn't noticed before.  
"A lot," he said truthfully.   
"Including the Hell Hound in the other room?"  
"It would seem so."  
"Where'd you get him?"  
"Her," Castiel corrected, "although, she may think otherwise," he considered.  
"Where'd you get her from?" Castiel just shrugged.  
"I didn't get her anywhere, I found her. She just just running free in the woods just outside the village."  
"Hmm..." Rowena sat backwards, staring down at her cup of tea.  
"Is something wrong?"  
"Oh?" Rowena looked up at him. "Not at all. I'm just surprised he let one of them out."

~~~

Dean couldn't believe that Sam was nearly half asleep in one if the chairs while he found himself non-stop pacing around the room. He wouldn't be surprised if he left indents in the wood flooring by the time Cas came back. Just the thought of something else happening to the angel made him restless. He didn't care that the witch had revived him, the feeling of this place alone was enough to make him paranoid as fuck. There was a pot of whatever boiling in the fireplace and Dean could have sworn he had heard something speaking nonsense from its direction. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get Cas out of here. Looking back at Sam, he still had no idea how the man was actually sleeping. 

It was maybe a few after half an hour that Cas showed himself outside the door. Dean stopped his pacing to stand next to him, Cas' wings puffing out and spreading wide when he laid eyes on him. Before he could even get a word out to him, Rowena stepped into the room, her bright red hair cascading down her open back dress. "The boy will be just fine, no need to worry." Her words didn't stop Dean from pulling Castiel closer to him.   
"What did she do to you?" Dean whispered once he and Cas were in the other side of the room. Cas placed a hand on Dean's arm to reassure him.  
"She did nothing." He whispered back.  
"Bullcrap, Cas. She must have done something!"  
"Dean... it's alright." He gave a barely visible smile, all in his eyes. Even so, the eerie feeling never left him. 

He led Cas to lie back down on the sofa, but Cas had only sat, taking up a small corner of the furniture. Dean thought of sitting with him, but he stopped himself. He's already gotten too close to his what one might call "new friend," and he was afraid he might accidentally end up slipped past that already thin line. Dean's upstairs brain had already been plotting against him along with his downstairs brain, and there was no way in Hell he was letting that happen again. No way at all. He most definitely would not let his eyes drop to the angel's lips, plush, bright pink, slightly chapped, his straight teeth constantly biting at them with the occasional lick, his tongue darting to wet his bottom lip in that perf- oh hell no. Stop that right now, Dean Winchester. He cleared his throat and sat down anyway. Cas' deep blue eyes glanced over to watch him before staring back down at his lap, clutching the white folds of his sheet. He seriously needs to get changed or something. Dean couldn't stop himself from steering his vision just a bit lower, down to his visible knees. Whenever Cas sat down, it seemed he always had his legs close together with the sheet covering his lap. He couldn't help but wonder if he wore anything underneath it, or- nope. Not going there, not again.

Sam woke up only a few minutes before Rowena stepped back into the room, a smile on her face. "Well, the boy's just fine. Did a bit of a check and-"  
"Did you do anything to him?" Dean interrupted. Rowena's smile drop, a sharp look of annoyance now taking it's place.   
"For your information, no, I did not. I only did a run through, he should be ready to hit the road." She smiled again. "Unless either of you need anything?"  
"We're fine," Dean said sharply, pulling Castiel towards him as he stood, leading him towards the door, "thanks."  
"And if you heathens need anything else," she began, looking directly at Dean, "be sure to just ask, next time." From behind them, Sam gave an embarrassed smile, raising his hand apologetically. 

Dean took no time to take Cas and his brother outside, a rush of relief sweeping over him once he hit the fresh air. The exterior of the cottage was actually very well kept, just an ordinary structure like the rest. Dean still couldn't believe the difference of the inside and out, especially the atmosphere. He supposed it was meant to be that way, to look as least suspicious as possible. "Thank god," Dean said once they had crossed the street, a scowl on his face, "I thought we'd never get out of that place."  
"I thought she was nice," Cas said quietly.  
"Yeah, will if I never see her again, it'd be too soon." He took Castiel's wrist, following his brother as he wandered down the crowded street.


	12. Dean Winchester

By the time they had made it towards the center of the kingdom, the sun was already lowering in the sky. There were several things that Dean had mentally planned out for tonight, but first things first. He took Cas' arm, smiling as he took a sharp turn around the corner. Cas' wings puffed out from behind him, flapping frantically to keep up with him. He had nearly forgotten about the Hell Hound with them, trotting next to Sam, who had caught up, her tongue sticking out of her twisted mouth. Dean knew Sam was a dog lover, and apparently she did as well, wagging her crooked tail whenever she was near him. Dean smirked, amused.

 

They stopped in front of another small shop, both Sam and Cas giving a confused look before he pushed open the doors. A little bell jingled above the door and, once inside, it felt like a completely different atmosphere. Even Dean was surprised that he liked it so much, but after coming here so many times, he had grown accustomed to the light scents filling the air. It was just so calm, relaxing, he couldn't help but enjoy it. Lining the walls were garment covered frames, both finished and unfinished, women's dresses covering one wall and men's tailored suits of several fabrics along the other. Dean had only come here a few times to clean his clothes or to stitch up some rather nasty tears, but even so, he had become particularly close to the place. Especially the one who owned it, just coming from the sewing room in the back. The woman's eyes widened at first sight of him, then she settled with a grin as she came around the counter. "Dean," she said, "good to see you again."

"You too, Jo." She looked past him, her smile widening even more.

"Hey!" She pointed at Cas, "I know you! From the bar, right?" Cas didn't reply, his eyes dodging hers.

"Yeah, that's him," Dean said, smiling. "So, how's work been?" Jo rolled her eyes.

"You know I only work here because I have to," she said, a solid tone in her voice. Dean laughed, throwing her head back, while she gave a small smile and shrugged. "Well, I'm not here to complain about my life, and you're definitely not here to stick around and chat." She pointed her thumb over her shoulder, outside the window. A post stood outside with a slightly damaged poster nailed to it. Dean nodded, knowing it's purpose and despising it.

"Right, right. No, I'm here for this one," he nodded his head towards Cas, who's own head shot up in alarm.

"Dean, what?" He asked, confused. Dean turned to him.

"You're not actually planning on running around in that, are you?" Cas slowly looked down at his attire. What was once a tidy white sheet covering his body was now tattered, torn, and stained, all in only two days. Cas only shrugged, and Dean gave a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, you're changing." When Cas looked up, Jo was smiling kindly towards him.

"Come on back, let's get you started." Cas looked to Dean, who gave the same look.

"Cas, it's fine. Do I have to reassure you every time you have to speak to a woman?" Cas actually laughed that time, small and barely audible, before nodding and following Jo into the back room.

 

Sam was tending to the whimpering Hell Hound outside when Dean came back. "How's the rat doing?" He asked jokingly. Sam looked up at him, actually seeming offended.

"You know, Cas was right about her. She's not so bad."

"Seriously?" The Hell Hound looked back at him, smiling wide with her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. Dean gave a weak laugh. "Ok, yeah, sure. Well, Cas 'll be out within, I'd say maybe the next hour or so. Got any plans?"

 

~~~

 

Castiel was thankful that Jo hadn't asked him many questions to respond to. Well, not after the first. "So, how was the bartender?" That had caused Castiel to be even more reluctant to speak. He was actually hoping to forget her some time soon. His memories of her were always seemed to linger in the back of his mind, always coming to voice themselves at the wrong times. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, then clearing his throat awkwardly. Jo then backed away. "Sorry, I didn't- if you don't wanna talk about it, understand."

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it," even though it was, "it's just that I..." he searched deeper down to find a way to answer probably, "I didn't have any interest." Jo hummed a reply behind him. He hadn't even noticed the long strip she was holding up to him, marked with little dashes and numbers. She asked him to extend his arms, and he did so, allowing her to measure him there as well. Next she placed the end of the strip against the base of his wings, which felt odd but he said nothing.

 

Jo told him to stay put in the chair against the wall while she worked and sorted out garments of clothing. As she did, Castiel couldn't help but let his thoughts draw back to their conversation. Especially the part about Meg. He remembered how he felt around her, about what she did to him. Not once in their encounter had he felt the slightest impression of arousal, instead, he felt just as nervous around her as he did everyone else, if not more.

 

It's not that he's never felt arousal during his entire experience, outside of Meg, that is. He knows exactly what the sensation feels like, he just can't remember when it happened, or why. Castiel subconsciously felt for his wings, his fingers playing at the feathers. He felt nothing at first, only brushing the tips of the feathers, then once he began groping towards the base, the feathers growing smaller and smaller the closer he got, he pulled his hand back. Now would not be the right time to begin practically touching himself, especially with Jo just across the room and the immense feeling of pleasure just the small touches gave him. He had never truly noticed just how sensitive the skin of his wings were under the black feathers. Castiel held his breath, thinking back to the last time he felt such a thing. He was almost angry at himself for finally remembering. Because he remembered perfectly, the laugh that came from the man as he did so, as he unintentionally rubbed his fingers against the skin just under his feathers. The drunken man at the time, who's bright green eyes sparkled when he looked at him, even in the dim lights of the bar. Oh dear god, those eyes, the ones that do so many things to Castiel at once. He could remember very clearly the day they met, thinking the exact same thing. At first, Castiel had only thought he was beautiful for his appearance, the first human- though, take that back now -to ever encounter. Thinking back now, he had told Castiel everything, a story so dark yet so beautiful because even though his past had taken him to Hell and back, he could still laugh, could still smile, and there was so much life in those eyes. Those god damn eyes. And Castiel was almost angry about it all because he couldn't help but think of how far they had come. All he could think about was Dean. He finally realized it; something had been on his mind, nagging him for these past few days, and it was all because of Dean. Because Dean was beautiful, so beautiful. He made Castiel smile more in only a couple of days than he had in the past eighteen years. Dean was nothing like how his brother described humans-or demons, for that matter. But Dean was more human than anyone else he had met. Dean made him laugh, made him feel so many things: made him want to cry, to smile, to run for his life, to stay right by his side, to...to... To love. Castiel suddenly found himself clutching his chest, the white folds of his wrap buried in his fingers' grasp. Luckily Jo hadn't noticed, because everything in his brain seemed to flee until there was nothing left. Nothing but Dean's name. How could he possibly let this happen? Dean was a criminal, obviously, he shouldn't even think of feeling like this. Besides, after tonight, he'll never be able to see him again. Tonight was the lights, then Dean would take him back before morning. He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to say goodbye. Castiel stared out the window, the feathers of his wings flattening and putting a heavy weight on his shoulders as he wrapped himself in them. He furrowed his brow in thought as he watched the townspeople going about their daily lives, the children playing games in the streets, shrieking and laughing. He wondered if any of them had ever felt anything like this. _Dean Winchester_ , he thought, _what have you done?_


	13. Three Words

It turned out that heading for the nearest bar wasn't the best idea. The air was thicker than most that Dean had been to and Sam was nearly intoxicated just by stepping through the doors. Apparently there was a fight only moments before they walked in, seeing as there was shattered glass on the floor spattered with specks of blood. To be honest, the overall reason Dean left the bar was because he was just bored. Somehow, even though he had always thought the crazier the bar the better, nothing seemed to intrigue him. It was dull, dark, and not even the slutty bartenders could turn him on. Maybe there was something wrong with him? Or maybe he was just tired of the same old scene.

Sam and Dean were heading back to Jo's little clothes shop ("Dammit Dean, I told you I hate it here) with the little Hell Hound trotting next to them. Her one eye watched them, its deep red color almost glowing in the sunlight. Even though she was a mangled, dirty, absolutely wretched little thing, Dean dared to think she was beginning to grow on him. Although her left eye, a closed empty socket that was scarred over, did kinda freak him out. 

The Hell Hound was the first to dash to the door of the shop, her fur-less paws scratching on the door. Sam laughed, pushing it open for her to go inside. The main room was completely deserted, only the mannequin frames and a couple of chairs filling the space. Some faint noises came from the back room. "Jo?" Dean called out. No response. Perhaps they came back too early? Sam shrugged when Dean shot him a look, looking back at the Hell Hound, who was now sniffing at one of the mannequins. 

Just as they turned to leave, Dean's hand already on the door, he heard footsteps from the back room. There was a creaking of the door, and Dean looked over his shoulder to see Jo walking into the room, smiling. "Hey guys," she said, the smile audible in her voice.  
"Hey Jo," Sam said, returning the smile.  
"Where's Cas?" Dean asked. No, dammit, say hello first. It was too late to turn back now. Jo laughed. She laughed? What's going on? They just brought Cas in to find new clothes, why did she seem so... giddy? It was completely unlike her.  
"I, uh... think we did pretty good this time," she said.  
"What do you mean?" Dean asked as Jo turned to the back room. There was no answer. He looked to Sam, who wasn't looking at him. Instead, Sam looked forward to the door of the back room, smiling. Although Dean couldn't understand why Sam was only smiling at the sight, it almost made Dean's fucking heart stop. Cas stepped out of the room, his old sheet most likely discarded and replaced with a beige colored coat, tight fitting at his torso and hips, then loose and flowing down to his knees. Along with this was yet even more close-to-skin clothes, a white collared shirt and black pants, and god dammit Dean didn't want to think about wear else those pants fitted so well on him. Knee-high buckled boots covered his once bare feet, the heels on them might actually make him just about as tall as Dean was. Not only that, but his wings were more properly groomed and laced with little purple flowers. So yeah, while Sam simply smiled, Dean couldn't stop his wide eyed stare, gaping all the while. A blush stained Cas' cheeks when Dean had not-so-subtly checked him over with his eyes.   
"You look great, Cas," Sam said. Yeah, "great" sure is the word for it, although Dean had many other words in mind. He hadn't even noticed Cas walking over to him, now only inches away from him and still only a few inches below eye level.  
"Dean?" Cas asked quietly, "what do you think?" God dammit, Dean couldn't think anything right now. A breath escaped his lips in a wordless response, which seemed to be the only think Cas needed because he looked away with a smile on his face. 

"So," Jo interrupted, "it's about evening. There's a place I suggested you take Cas to." Dean looked up sharply, a deep red blush burning his cheeks.   
"What? Why- When did you-"  
"I was talking to Cas while you were gone. It was just an idea." And son of a bitch, Dean really didn't want to admit that it was a good idea. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do until tonight. Just play it off, Dean, be casual about it.  
"Y-yeah. Sure." Dammit. So much for casual.  
"Good," Jo said, "So? What the hell are you still doing here? Get out." She said it all with a smile still on her face. 

~~~

The place Jo had recommended was one of the few nice restaurants in the city, and once they arrived, Dean almost begged Sam to stay with them. If Dean went in only with Cas for the entire evening, that would be a date, and Dean Winchester does NOT do dates. Especially not with hot ass angels with piercing blue eyes that he really wouldn't mind doing something with after this is all over. But the entire time he argued with Sam, his little brother stood there with his arms crossed and a huge grin, denying everything. Dean was gonna get payback on Jo after this night was over, he just knew she and Sam were behind all this. 

After a few more minutes of arguing and Sam calling him some names he would never admit to being called, Dean headed inside the restaurant with the angel behind him. There was an empty table towards the back, and Dean tried really hard to ignore the red roses and candles placed on every table in the building. Once they sat down across from each other, Dean found himself looking anywhere else but at Cas, who was looking down at one of the menus found on the menus. Stupid son of a bitch, say something! "You look...nice, Cas," Dean said. Cas looked up for a moment before going back to the menu.  
"Thank you, Dean." There had to be something to talk about. Anything? Going once, going twice...  
"I'm uh...I'm actually really glad we're doing this."  
"Hmm?" Cas hummed, "Well, that's surprising, seeing how reluctant you were to come inside with me." His comment threw Dean completely off guard. When the hell did he get so much sass? What did he and Jo even do in there? Dean laughed it off.  
"Yeah, sorry about that, I just-"  
"Don't want to admit you actually want to do something nice with your friend?" Dean's head snapped back up. Did Jo fucking break him or something?  
"Cas-" the angel smiled from across the table. He was starting to scare the shit out of Dean. He just didn't want to admit he kinda liked it.  
"Dean, what's you issue?" Cas put the menu down and folded his hands on the table. "You," Dean thought.   
"I don't know what you-"  
"I mean," Cas looked away for a moment, "it's as though you hold a grudge against anything that might actually be fun."  
"Yeah, and as long as we're talking about issues- since when did you start actually talking?" Cas tilted his head and furrowed his brow in that totally-not-adorable-way that Dean definitely did not like.  
"I've always been able to speak, Dean."  
"Just earlier you couldn't look someone in the eye, now you're sassing me off like it's a competitive sport." Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as Cas' eyes softened.  
"You make me feel comfortable." Ok, wow, definitely not what Dean was expecting. There was a fluttering feeling in his chest when he looked into those deep blue eyes staring into him. Too many feelings came to him at once, a few of them Dean needed to shove aside right now. Those eyes just did something to him that Dean couldn't explain, made his brain go blank and his vision go blurry until the only only thing in focus is bright, soft blue. He let go of his held in breath, only to nearly choke on it when Cas smiled. It was soft, and there was something in his eyes that made Dean's heart flip in his chest. A laugh bubbled up in Dean's throat, unable to control it. What the hell was happening to him? Dean's never felt like this before. Was he dying?

 

The evening stretched on into the night, the silence filled with laughs and stories and the swelling feeling in Dean's chest never leaving. Sam had apparently hit a pub down the street and told Dean not to worry about him, that stupid grin on his face when he saw that Cas was practically following Dean's tail. 

The sky was only just beginning to darken once they arrived at the lake. Dean took Cas to one of the boats tied to the dock, unraveling the rope and taking them away from land. Dean and Castiel settled in the boat just before it took off, the angel in particular staring out past the kingdom to watch the bright orange sun setting low in the sky. Sam waved them off, occasionally glancing down at the Hell Hound, who was pawing at the deck and smiling her her long tongue hanging out. Dean smiled and waved as well, then grabbing for the oars on the side of the small boat to push them along forwards. 

By the time they were out towards the center of the lake, the sun was just barely visible along the rooftops of the kingdom and village. Castiel's eyes now gazed upwards at the stars beginning to show their faces amongst the darkening colors of the sky. Dean couldn't help but watch him with a smile on his face, of Cas' wonder filled eyes as if he's never seen the sky itself in his life. He looked down at Castiel's lap, his hands flat against his pants, and Dean just couldn't rid of the thought of how easy it would be to reach over and hold them in his own. To think that just days ago, Dean would have been on his feet, on the run, from whatever trouble he happened to have caused this time. In a way, Castiel had changed him, for whenever Dean thought of that life, he realized he didn't want it all back. He only played as a thief for fun, for the rush of excitement that would get his heart racing. Now, the little angel in front of him seemed to be the only thing he needed to fulfill that. Dean laughed at himself, looking away from him. Before Cas, he would never let even himself think such a thing. Dean was supposed to be the man on the run, no fears, no worries, nothing to bother his sweet time. But Cas...Cas was different. He changed Dean in ways he thought he never wanted. No one has ever been able to do that to him before now. So he did it- Dean reached across the space between them, watching Cas' startled expression when their fingers lingered among each other and Dean finally closed them together. Cas' hands were warm, they shocked him at the first touch, sending a spark through his brains and feeling his thoughts go brain dead. "Almost time," is what he found himself saying. Cas nodded, not questioning what was going on between them. 

The sun was nearly down, only its rays peeking out from behind the rooftops and trees. The stars above shine more brilliantly now, but not as well as what was to come. Dean suddenly remembered the patched up leather bag slung around his shoulder, taking away any happy thought that came to mind. It was nothing more than a cold, unsettling reminder of what he must do. "Cas," Dean said, looking away. He could find himself to look the angel in the eye.  
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel asked. Dean took a deep, but silent intake of breath.  
"I need to tell you something." He broke his hand away from Cas' in order to take off the bag from his shoulder. From it, he pulled out a small glass case, with something pressed down on a stretch of velvet on the inside. He handed it to Cas to inspect.   
"What is this?" Cas asked after a moment.  
"It's, uh...it's why I was on the run." He took it back from Cas when he handed it to him, looking down at the small, grayish white feather behind the glass. "It's one of the few molted feathers from the prince's first shedding. The queen died only hours later and not even the king knew what his true colors were, these were just the first. It's apparently worth a hell of a lot of money in the black market, so I, uh..." Cas looked to him, and Dean did his best to avoid his disappointed stare. "I'm sorry, Cas. It was all that my dad wanted to do. For some...god awful reason, I thought I was the one who'd have to do so for him. I don't know why I didn't just stop after he...after he died." He felt Cas' fingers lock with his again in his lap. Then Dean was suddenly surrounded with deep black feathers all around him, surrounding the majority of the boat.   
"Dean...just know it's not your fault. You were so broken with your father's scolding..." Cas waited until Dean looked him in the eye, "it's not your fault." He repeated. Dean wanted to reply, but just behind Cas' wings, the sky began to alight. A smile settled on Dean's face.  
"Turn around," he said, his grin audible in his voice. Cas' wings lowered, and Dean only wished he could see his face when he turned the other direction. Up towards the tip of the castle as a bright blue light, alone heading out into the night amongst the stars. Then, in the sky were hundreds, thousands of bright orange and yellow lights, a fire burning within each of the delicate glass orbs. They reached higher into the sky, a few of them falling closer to the water, just enough for them to hover over the lake before lifting back up into the skies. The natural light of the stars were dim compared to the glowing orbs dancing all around them. Even the water reflected a burning orange, leaving no color for anything else. But Dean wasn't watching the orbs. Instead, he couldn't look away from the angel before him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, gazing up towards the sky. One of the orbs fell down upon them, just outside the boat, and they both placed a hand underneath it to let it float back up into the sky.

After a moment, Castiel looked back to Dean, who was still watching him. "So...what are you going to do?"  
"Hmm?" Cas nodded towards the bag, the feather now back inside of it. Dean's eyes suddenly looked as down as they were before.  
"I...decided I'm gonna return it myself. Turn myself in." Cas' eyes widened in shock.  
"Dean, no!" He exclaimed. "No, they're going to...they're going to kill you!"  
"So be it!" Dean laughed. "I've lived enough of a life, anyway. Twenty-two isn't that young."  
"I can't let you do that, Dean," Cas choked out. "We can..." Cas looked down, before looking back up at Dean, right in the eyes. "We can do what you've been doing before. Run away, just you, me, and Sam. We can get away from here, and live alone. I-" there was a look in Cas' eyes that Dean could tell was connected to the angel's heart breaking. "I'm ready to...to give everything up. You've shown me so much, changed me in so many ways, and I...thank you, for everything." So this was it. Only a few days, and this one little angel was willing to do anything for him, anything with him. There was that fluttering feeling again in his chest, only stronger, more unbearable. Dean could practically feel the way he was looking at Cas, the softening in his eyes that no one before was ever able to pull from him. Cas wanted to run away with him, even though the day they met nearly ended with a blade in Cas' chest. Dean laughed at the memory. How the Hell did they end up here?  
"Cas..." Dean was forming something in his mouth, something he had never planned on saying. "I wanna let you know that...you've done the same to me. You somehow managed to take everything I know in life and turn it all around. I-" he couldn't help the laugh he gave, "I want to take you with me. We could, we could run away so easily and, you know what? I'm ready for that too." No matter how hard he tried to stop himself, the ramble still went on, as though the words weren't coming from his brain at all. "Cas, I..." Dean couldn't stop the laugh breaking in his throat. "Oh my god, Cas I just-" He felt Cas's hands overlap his, and Dean looked up and into the angel's shining eyes. "Holy shit I'm terrible at this. I just..." he laughed again quieter this time. "Cas, I need you." He watched as Cas lifted his hands to his lips, kissing his knuckles.  
"I need you too, Dean," he said quietly.

Dean just beamed, and he couldn't help himself with what happened next. All of sudden he was down on his knees on the floor of the boat, watching Cas' confused expression. To be more exact, he was down on one knee.  
"Castiel..." he started, unbelieving even to himself of what was happening. It just felt so right.   
"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas asked, his eyes still shining.  
"No one has to know," he said, rubbing a thumb across Cas' knuckles. The angel gave a small smile, the lights all around them reflecting in Cas' watering eyes.  
"Yes, Dean," he said, barely a whisper. Dear slowly sat back up, leaning in from across the boat. He placed a hand behind Cas' neck, fingers playing in dark, unkempt hair. The angel- his angel- smelled faintly of flowers, and his lips tasted sweet against his own. Dean breathed in everything he could of him, placing his other hand on his hips, drawing him closer. Feeling Cas this close to him sent away all of the thoughts in his head, all of the little desperations he'd felt since the day they met. Everything just felt at ease. He could just take Cas away with him, away from everything. It was as though everything was right in the world, just in this moment. Cas threw his arms over Dean's shoulders, and blanketed them both with his wings, hiding themselves from the outside world.

~~~

 

They eventually reached the dock once again, and they took no time at all to head back inside. They checked into a old, rubbish inn and, on the way, their little touches became more heated and even more intimate. Neither of them even bothered lighting the candles on the walls, instead leaving the light to only the candles on the nightstand and heading straight for the most comfortable place in room. During their heated kissing, their clothes were discarded and abandoned on the floor, leaving nothing between them.

Dean looked down at Castiel, who now lay beneath him on the bed with wonder filled eyes and slightly parted lips. The angel stroked his hands down Dean's arms, the freckles even now still illuminated by the flickering candlelight beside the bed. Cas' breath hitched when Dean moved closer down to him, and the man stopped by his ear, his nose buried into the angel's thick hair. He shushed him calmly, leaning back to look him in the eye again. Dean traced Cas' cheekbone with his thumb, still looking deep into his sparkling blue eyes. "It's ok, Cas," he whispered, barely audible even in the complete silence they lay in. "I'm going to take care of you. You know I would never hurt you." He then heard Cas' held in breath release as he nodded. A rush of relief flooded over him, and Dean let out a slow breath, leaning back down to plant his lips softly against the angel below him. Cas reciprocated almost immediately, slowly but passionately, moving his hands from Dean's arms to his back, circling his thumbs deep into his shoulder blades. They parted only to meet again, like a thousand hellos exchanged through each kiss. Castiel's wings enveloped the two of them, the raven black feathers holding the man even closer to him, almost to say he would never let him go. 

A gasp from the lips of the angel is what caused the kiss to be cut off when Dean had suddenly pushed against him, inviting him to dive into something deeper. Hesitantly, Castiel sat up half way on the pillow, Dean helping him hoist his long legs over the man's shoulders. Dean hovered over him, moving his legs to sit on his knees just under Castiel's lifted body. He continued to whisper soothing words to Cas to calm him, running his fingers through his dark locks of hair. "Are you sure you want to..." Dean asked quietly. There was no hesitation when Cas closed his eyes, nodding slowly. Dean murmured a small "ok" under his breath, cautiously moving into and against Castiel. The angel held back a tiny moan when Dean slowly pushed his index finger into him, slipping it out only to push in deeper. Cas was gripping the sheets, gritting his teeth with his eyes shut tight. A groan escaped his throat when he could tell that Dean's finger had reached inside of him all the way to his knuckle. Dean's name slipped off the angel's tongue as he bucked forward. Dean hesitated, pulling his finger out halfway before looking down at the angel. "Cas, do you-"  
"Please, Dean," Cas groaned, not opening his eyes. Cas wanted this, needed this, and Dean knew it. Without letting Castiel get even a moan out, Dean slipped a second finger into him along with the first. Cas gasped loudly, throwing his head back with a groan, giving a vice grip to the sheets. Cas' hole was loose enough to place a third finger in, which drove Castiel insane, shouting Dean's name before the actual thing even began. "Ah- De- ah! Dean, please!" He groaned again, the sound coming thick from his throat. Dean slipped his fingers out with ease, leaning back to look the angel in the face, the both of them with strong desire in their eyes.   
"Get up," Dean told him. Confused for a moment, Castiel obeyed, rolling over and allowing Dean to get on his back next to him. Before he could ask, Dean was grabbing his torso and pulling him on top of him. Cas was slightly familiar with the position Dean was asking- demanding for, remembering it from previous literature- what the hell, now's not the time to go full depth. Dean didn't even need to tell Cas what to do; he sat on Dean's lap, letting out a surprised moan when he felt Dean's member push deep onto him. Slowly, Cas rocked on top of him, Dean pushing his hips upward into the angel. "De-Dean!" Cas called. His huge wings flapped erratically behind him, unevenly. "Ah!" He moved himself to a certain pace just where he felt an explosion of pleasure hitting him deep.   
"C-Cas..." Castiel didn't know why, but hearing his name on the man's lips just made everything seem so much more pleasurable. Dean's gasping and grunting just about made him see stars, and Cas closed his eyes tightly as his moaning became worse and worse, louder and louder. Everything just built and built and built, time going faster along with them, Dean's name escaping his throat as his own slipped off of Dean's tongue, their dirty, pathetic moans and shouts filling the empty room, the bed creaking louder and louder until they swore it was about to break. Their bodies were moving faster and faster, Dean's grip on Castiel's thighs growing tighter and more painful, their minds going blank while going absolutely fucking insane, when it finally happened: Cas felt something shoot up into him while at the same time feeling sweet, desperate release, everything that had built up had just exploded in a burst of pleasure. The two of them collapsed, Cas falling next to Dean on his back, their panting filling what was once such filthy sound just moments ago. Dean's pupils were completely blown when Cas looked over, only a sliver of green being illuminated in the moonlight.

Castiel wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he knew it was to the warm body close against him, and the steady heartbeat beneath his cheek.


	14. Torn

Dean couldn't remember the bed being this cold last night. Or lonely, for that matter. He thought about putting his clothes back on, then go look for Cas. But when he sat up, still half awake, the bed didn't creak. He couldn't feel his bare chest beneath his fingertips when he checked, finding his own worn out clothing covering his body even though he couldn't remember putting them back on. And overall, the most concerning fact that he found was that the sleeping form of the angel was no longer next to him. It made his brain snap awake, his senses on high alert. The stone beneath him seemed much colder now, his body freezing in fear and confusion.

Dean's mind went through an instant run through of questions, something drilled into his brain by his father when he was younger.   
Question one: where? He looked around, observing his surroundings. Stone walls, stone floors, tight space, metal bars. A prison cell. Shit.  
Question two: when? Whatever was going on must have started before he woke up. It could be early morning, or it could be afternoon, there was no way to tell with only a dark hallways lit by torchlight. There were no windows to be seen.  
Question three: who? Dean thought he should be all alone. He just hoped to God that Cas wasn't here, he most likely wouldn't be able to handle it with his post-mental abuse. He was stronger than Dean would think, however, so who is he to judge? But right now, he needs to keep the angel out of his mind. He looked through the rusting metal bars and across the hallway where a figure lie slumped against the wall of their cell. Dean looked for features- large figure, tall, long hair, patched up clothes; it must be Sam. He'll come back to him later, after he's finished with the routine questions.  
Question four: what was happening? Imprisonment, obviously. Possible death penalty- no, at this point, certain death penalty. The thought twisted Dean's stomach, making him feel nauseous. Best not think about it and continue on. Both he and Sam (and hopefully not Cas) were most likely ratted out last night. He should have known it was a bad idea to stay at a motel overnight, even if it was falling apart at the frame.   
Finally, question five: why? Ok, he was skipping over that one. There were so many reasons it actually made his head hurt. 

As long as he was finished with that, it's time to get back to Sam. He was still only half illuminated in the torchlight, the other half of his face hidden in darkness. He had to get his attention without being too loud. Dean searched for his knife, finding it missing. Great. He still needed to find something solid enough to call for him. He looked down at his hands, then curling them to show his blunt nails. Dean tapped the surface of them against the bars four times, loud enough for Sam to hear their old signal. Sam reacted almost instantly, slipping into the faint light. "Dean?" He mouthed. Looking closer, Dean could see a red and purple mark just below Sam's eye, and a spike of rage filled him, knowing he got hurt trying to protect him. Dean was going to kick some royal ass once he got out of here.   
"Sam!" He mouthed back, "are you ok?"  
"I'm fine, what about you?" Dean hadn't even thought to check himself.  
"Not important. Where's Cas?" Sam looked at him strangely, confused.  
"What about your ass?" He mouthed. Dean rolled his eyes.  
"CAS. CASTIEL," he stressed. Sam nodded, now understanding, but shrugged. Good, that limited the chance that he would be here. But that only made his mind wander still. If he's not here, then...where is he?

~~~

The flowers in his wings had already wilted by morning. They were lying by the candles on his bedside table, fallen petals browning and withering on the surface. Castiel knew he had to return home eventually, that every promise made would be forced to be empty, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. He couldn't even remember telling Dean goodbye. It all felt as throw he'd been blown in the chest. 

Castiel gazed upwards at his illustrated canopy hanging over the bed. The same intricate designs of angels danced along the threads holding the sheet together, the same ones that have been there his whole life. It had only been two days. Why did they seem so ancient to him? Only two days, and he was back home. No, not home. The tower. This place may have shielded him since he was a child, an infant, but this wasn't his home anymore. Castiel's home was far, far away now, and where? He couldn't begin to imagine. And he didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.

The thought of Dean lead to several other trails of thought. Where is he? Does he miss him? Castiel wondered if maybe, just maybe, Dean could have simply faked their entire bond. If it were all just a play on the little angel. It made him feel sick to even touch the thought.

What happened to Sam? Castiel never even got the chance to say goodbye to him. Even though he only had a brief amount of time with him, he thought of Sam as a friend, possibly one of the only he'll ever have. 

And what of the Hell Hound? Where had she gone off to? It hurt him to think that something would have happened to her. Sure, Castiel's made quite a few bonds with animals, but she was different. She was broken down, abused, and hurt. Something like that has so much struggle to learn to love another being. She reminded him of someone.

Castiel was snapped from his thoughts when a steady knock came from his bedroom door. Not long after did the door open, the face of his brother showing from the outside. "Castiel?" The angel looked up slowly, now sitting up in his bed. He noticed he was still in the same attire as last night. "Did you sleep well?" Castiel didn't want to respond. Hell no, he didn't sleep well.  
"It was fine," he lied, his voice low. It sounded rougher than usual. Lucifer's expression of kindness dropped to something more sympathetic.  
"Cassie, I'm sorry it had to be like this." Castiel looked back up at him. What did he mean?  
"Like what?"  
"You, being brought back here so suddenly. But you were-" a look of pain came across Lucifer's face, which was more broken down than ever, "you were attacked."  
"What?" Castiel asked, disbelieving. Lucifer nodded.  
"Once I realized you were missing, I went to look for you. I found you, last night, there was this...disgusting animal," Castiel's heart went cold at his description, "it was growling towards the door, so I opened it and..." he looked as though he couldn't continue, "a man was holding a knife over you and-"  
"You didn't kill him!" Castiel found himself shouting, jumping forward on his bed. He instantly regretted, his eyes going wide and he shrunk back down in his bed. He could see Lucifer's eyes go cold, hard, as they settled back on him.  
"You don't," he said quietly..."know this man, do you?"  
"No, no I-" Castiel was almost surprised to hear himself stuttering, his voice shaking. A pang of fear hit him as Lucifer shot to his feet.  
"This was your captor, Castiel! He took you from your home!" The angel could already feel regret before the words came from his mouth.  
"No, he didn't!" He shouted back, "you...YOU did!" His heart was beating at a mile a minute, swelling in his chest. His vision was shaking, burning his eyes. Terror flooded him as Lucifer towered over him, dark shadows casting over his face. He struggled to think straight. What would Dean do? He asked himself. What would Dean do? His voice came out stronger than he expected. "You son of a bitch!"

~~~

Sam had been watching his brother with a bored expression for the past twenty minutes as Dean shouted pointless complaints into the empty hallway. Dean had tried every method he's got to get the guard's attention, but to no avail. This was all he had left, and god dammit, we was gonna use it till it proved faulty.

"Dean, just give it up," his brother said finally. Dean ignored his comment. He knew he looked delirious, just screaming at nobody while locked up in a cell, but it would all pay off eventually. At least he hoped so. Dean rattled the old metal bars, the sound echoing almost painfully against the empty stone walls.   
"I can't just give up, Sam," he said eventually, "you know I can't."  
"Dean," Sam said, a bit more harsh. When Dean looked at him behind the bars, he could see his tired expression. He looked as though he had actually given up. "This is it," he said sadly, "we've been running around with no end, did you really think we'd make it that way?" Dean let go of the bars, backing away from them. He gave a small, heartless laugh.  
"Yeah, Sam. Yeah I did. And you know the fuck what?" Sam looked back up at him slowly as he spoke. "We are gonna make it," he said quietly, "we're gonna get outta here, we're gonna find Cas, and we're gonna bring that idiot back home. I don't care what it takes- if I have to scratch, claw, bleed, just to get us out of here, then dammit Sam, I will." 

Dean stepped back, nearly ripping the leather belt off from around his waist, then slammed it against the bars, sending the awful sound down the hallway. "HEY!" He shouted, as loud as he could no matter how hoarse his voice was becoming. "I'VE BEEN YELLING FOR BOUT' HALF AN HOUR DOWN HERE, YOU GONNA SHUT ME UP OR NOT?" Sam almost laughed from his cell. Dean gave a smile. This plan was gonna work even if he had to kill himself for it.

~~~

He almost couldn't believe the words came from his own mouth. Castiel's wings flared instinctively as Lucifer stood over him. "I did what was best for you," his brother said slowly. Castiel's cold expression didn't leave his eyes.  
"You were wrong, Lucifer."  
"Excuse me?" He nearly shouted. It didn't cause Castiel to back down. He's had enough of this.  
"You. Were. Wrong." Lucifer grabbed him by the neck, shoving him down to the floorboards. Castiel's wings still stay spread out on the floor, flapping hard against Lucifer's force on him.  
"Say it again!" He threatened.   
"About me!" He continued, "about the world! About humanity!" His voice became louder as he spoke. He kicked his feet into Lucifer's midsection, sending him backwards. Castiel flapped his massive wings, setting his feet back onto the floor. "I don't even know who I am, because of YOU!" He heard something shatter from behind him, the force of his grace too powerful in the small room. His wings flapped again, threatening his brother. "Who even am I?! Certainly you would know!" Lucifer stared up at him, and CastieI'ml could actually watch as his brother's wearing skin disintegrated around the redder areas. "He's ruined you," he said, disgust dripping thickly in his voice, "can't you see that?" Castiel's expression hardened.   
"No," he replied slowly, his voice firm, " pretty sure that was you." His large wings flapped again, his grace like electricity crackling through the air. "You told me the world would reject me. That people were cruel, and merciless. But I'll tell you, I've met a demon that is more human than you'll ever be." He took another step towards Lucifer, still crouched on the floor. He stopped, suddenly, as he heard faint laughter echoing in the room. It was Lucifer, looking down and away from him. When he looked back up to Castiel, his face was even more damaged than only mere minutes ago.   
"That's just thing thing, though, isn't it?" He said quietly. Castiel noticed as Lucifer slowly reached towards his shoulder blades. "But I guess that's just what the world does to you after a while, huh?" He didn't have the time to dodge his lunge towards him, Lucifer tightly pulling on a handful of his black feathers. Castiel caught a yelp in his throat at the pain that shot through his sensitive wings, feeling his shoulder blades tense up sharply. He pushed his other wing towards Lucifer, the force of the blow sending him backwards again. Intense pain began pulsating from the spot Lucifer had been gripping his wing, and when Castiel's hand went for the injury, he found several of his smaller feathers missing, with a single larger one causing the most pain. Blood seeped from what was once the feathers' roots. He gritted his teeth, anger flooding his mind as he glared at his brother, having no time to deal with the pain. But the anger suddenly fled as he saw what Lucifer had been holding in his hands. Right before his eyes, the pitch black feathers lost their color, becoming lighter and lighter. Lucifer instantly threw them on the floor in disgust just as they were turning white.

~~~

"Ah, finally!" Dean cheered. The sound of footsteps were growing louder and louder from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, hey, when's lunch, by the way?" He asked jokingly. The footsteps were coming closer, and Dean leaned closer to the gap in the bars.   
"Oh, you never know when to shut up your mouth, do you, Dean?" Dean stopped, stepping back from the cold metal bars. He recognized that voice. The accent was too thick not to know exactly who possessed it.  
"Rowena?" He asked slowly.  
"Ah! So you do remember me!" Her face then took on a grimace, taking over her peppy tone. "Because I certainly remember you." She said with a hint of disgust. A flashback of their last encounter was all too clear to Dean.  
"Rowena, look. I'm sorry about, well, about everything. But Cas might be in trouble, and in case you haven't noticed," he gestured to his prison cell, "there's not much I can do from here."  
"You're asking for a release?"  
"Yes! Rowena, that's exactly what I'm asking," Dean said, as if the answer were obvious. Rowena's shadowed eyes peered over him, making him feel smaller than he should.  
"Well, you see..." she began, and Dean already felt annoyed, "as much as I did like the boy, there's nothing I can do for you now."   
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Dean said louder than expected.   
"If I told you, then I'd be betraying my end of the deal," she said lightly. Unbridled rage boiled in Dean's veins.   
"You double-crossing son of a BITCH!" He shot forward, reaching out through the bars, but she glided backwards so quickly it was as though her feet hadn't touched the floor. "You fucking sold us out?!"  
"What am I to say?" She gave a small laugh, "this man was selling a very good agreement."  
"What man?" Dean growled. Rowena didn't answer. "I said," he finally reached out far enough to grab her by the skirt of her long dress, pulling her forward. "What man?!" She gave a sly smirk.  
"The fallen prince himself."  
He should have known.   
Lucifer had Cas.

~~~

Before he could even expect it, he was being slammed against the wall with such sheer force that he wouldn't be surprised if it left cracks in the stone. Lucifer's degenerating face was in his own, backing him further against the wall. "You..." he growled, "have no idea just how determined I am to keep you locked up here. YOU have NO idea what it's like-what happened to me that I am forced to hold captive even the most worthless pieces of shit like you just to stay alive." Castiel forced out what he could with Lucifer's hand choking him.  
"I don't even...know what...you're talking about!" He cried, his voice hoarse. Lucifer let go of his grip in an instant, the hand around Castiel's throat darkening, blackening, and losing it's strength. Castiel crashed to the floor, choking and gasping for breath.  
"Of course you don't," Lucifer snapped. "And you know what, you little runt? You were right."   
"What?" Castiel asked between his coughing fit.  
"I took you, because you were the only thing that could keep me alive. They banished me, Castiel, they took my grace, and I was dying. But then," there was a dangerous glint in his eye as he looked down at him, "then you were born. You were so young, you couldn't remember a thing. Couldn't remember our father, couldn't remember how our mother died at your birth," something that looked like pain took over Lucifer's expression. It caused a blow in Castiel's chest as well. How was he supposed to know? "You were so innocent. The baby brother I would never be allowed to meet. The next little prince." He hadn't expected the loving look in Lucifer's eyes, but as quickly as it came, it had vanished. "And yet now you disgust me." Castiel attempted to evade Lucifer's attack, but his still functioning hand was gripping Castiel's neck, dragging him higher up on the wall. His brother brought up his other withering hand, the skin long since rotten away, revealing blood and bone. A sharp edge of bone suddenly dragged against his neck, and Castiel barely had time to scream before he began to gag on his own blood. The bright blue light of his grace nearly blinded him as only some of it left his body.


	15. Apart

Lucifer has Cas. _Shit. Fucking shit._  
Dean ran a hand through his hair, turning away from Rowena. He couldn't stand to look at her right now. How could she? She fucking saved Cas life, didn't she? Why would she turn on them? On him? Nothing was adding up. He knew he shouldn't have trusted her in the first place. But then again, if he hadn't, Cas may not even be alive right now. The thought sent chills down his spine. Best not think about it right now. Or ever, for that matter.

"Oi, boy-o," he heard Rowena say, snapping him out of thought. He turned to her slowly, most of his face hidden in darkness.  
"What the hell do you want now?" He growled. Rowena waved for him to come closer. She checked down the hallway before turning back to him.  
"I'm no longer under watch," she whispered.  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rowena shushed him seeming nervous. She pointed at the side of her head.  
"Lucifer."  
"Oh, yeah, that clears up a lot. Thanks." Dean rolled his eyes. She shushed him again.  
"A spell, he..." she glanced over her shoulder again, "he took my magic. He's watching us, through my eyes. I don't have long. Come here." He shouldn't trust her. He really shouldn't. But then again, if she might have any lead on Cas...  
He stepped forward. Rowena slowly placed her fingertips on his temples, and in a moment his vision went blank. Dean began to panic, fearing he may have gone blind, when an entirely different setting flashed before his eyes.

_The setting was dark, moody, and he could practically smell the fumes in the air. Rowena's home. She was stepping backwards against the sofa, her slim figure silhouetted by the roaring fireplace. Another person appeared in his line of vision, a man, towering over her. Dean had begun to wonder why Rowena would show him this when the man's face became more clear to him. His skin was rotten, small tears and holes withering away. It was almost gruesome. He was advancing on Rowena, grabbing her by the shoulders as she fought back with all she had. The man took a handful of her hair, pulling her neck back far enough for him to grab her by the sides of her head. Unfamiliar syllables came from his lips, and Rowena stopped defending herself. The scene was dragging on of nothing but Rowena chanting back to him, foreign languages being communicated back and forth. Then everything went out of focus, and the last thing Dean saw was the figure of the man twisting Rowena's head and a snapping sound flooding his ears._

Dean awoke to find that no time at all had passed when he watched the vision. He now saw the fear that was in Rowena's eyes as she stared back at him. Looking back down the hallway, she slipped her hand into Dean's pocket through the bars. "I must go," she said, looking back to him, shadowed eyes wide. "Take this, and good luck. Lucifer will return in a moment. Wait for my signal, then use this." She released her hand, and a solid weight filled Dean's pocket. Rowena turned down the hallway, her form disappearing in the darkness until nothing but the clicking of her heels remained in the prison.

Very slowly, Dean's hand reached into his pocket. A large key filled his palm, Dean's thumb dragging over it because his eyes alone couldn't comprehend what was happening. Rowena was on their side. He couldn't believe it. Sam was watching him curiously from the floor of his cell, and Dean brought up the key, a smile on his face. Now they just had to wait for whatever Rowena referred to as a "signal."

Only moments later, what was once the dark hallway was illuminated by dozens of lighted torches hanging on the stone walls. Sam nodded towards Dean, who then slid his arm through the bars, reaching towards the lock. After jamming the key into the lock on his cell, there was a click, and then the wall of bars whined as it was pushed out of the way. Dean couldn't help but beam at his little brother's bright eyes as he went for his cell.

~~~

In that moment, the crunching sound of the fallen leaves under his boots was the most amazing thing. The exhilaration in his veins was no different than only a few days ago. Only now he only had a single driving impetus: _Cas_.

Dean was only running on instinct; though only having traveled through this forest once, he had mapped out the exact paths for him to take. Uneven, everlasting rows of trees, both alive and fallen, came in his way, though at this rate of speed, they were nothing but blurs in his vision. A few of the trees had blood stained into the bark, marking his past route through the forest.

Dean often looked over his shoulder, expecting someone's company to be with him on the run. He nearly forgot when no one was by his side.

~~~

It was surprising what lack of security there was in the prison. Or perhaps they should just thank Rowena when they see her again. If they see her again.

Sunlight was almost foreign to him now, as much of an exaggeration as that is. The fresh light hurt his eyes after so long of adjusting to darkness, even if several storm clouds were gathering further on, it took him a moment blink away the stabbing blindness. Once he did, he took Sam by the shoulder, leading him towards the bridge at the end of the village where the prison was set. The rippling water beneath them was rushing with more force than the day before.

He separated himself from his brother once he was sure they were out of sight from the village. There was that despairing look in his eyes, almost refusing to look down Dean. "Now, come on Sammy," Sam was shaking his head as he spoke, "you know the drill."  
"No," Sam protested, "no Dean, I'm going with you." Dean cocked his head to one side.  
"You know why you can't do that. I gotta do this one on my own." Sam still refused to look to his brother despite his reasoning. "Go on, stay safe Sammy. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you." Sam finally cracked, giving a broken smile and huffing a laugh.  
"Yeah, ok."  
"That's it, get over here," Dean took a step forward with his arms outstretched, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. "See you later, Sammy. Stay safe. I'll meet you in the shack, alright?" He felt his brother nod beside him.

The two of them stepped back, Dean nodding as he took off towards the right in the woods. He didn't continue onwards, however, until Sam was out of sight. Now his only prime concern was the angel who could very well be being tortured at this exact moment.

~~~

There were faint paw prints in the path he was taking as he ventured on further into the woods. Not to mention the blood dotting the fallen leaves. Something definitely must have happened involving Cas. Dean tried pushing away the thought of just whose blood it might have been.

Dean stopped in his tracks, bending down towards the edge of the path where he spotted something peculiar. Small, ruffled white feathers were dispersed along the ground, the stems stained with deep red contrasting the pure white. Dean could almost hear the gears turning in his own head, yet nothing was making sense. Why _white_ feathers? It took no effort to remember that Castiel's were the purest shade of black he'd ever laid eyes on. So did that mean there was another angel? That couldn't have been possible. Instead of sitting there trying to piece the puzzle together, Dean stood up and continued walking- more like un-paced jogging- down the path. Though the further he went, the more obvious it was that Castiel had been dragged down here. He noticed a thick belt of an unknown animal hide, torn at the edges and looking as though it had been to hell and back. Dean quickly swiped it up for further inspection, finding it to be exactly what he had believed it was. The engraved "C" was even in the stone poorly attached to the hide. That may also explain the blood on the path. Whoever- though the answer really is quite clear- had kidnapped Cas definitely had to fight the little Hell Hound by his side.

More and more of those little blood stained feathers littered his path. That was when Dean began to try to piece the details together again. But Cas had black feathers, so unless Lucifer had wings- which seemed a bit unlikely- there was no one else these could belong to. Maybe Cas was molting? Again, unlikely to be. Besides, angel feathers don't change color when they shed. So what the hell was going on?

By letting his thoughts and deductions occupy his head, he was almost surprised to find he was already at the wall of vines leading to the tunnel. When looking down, he was nearly sick at the sight of thick blood smeared on the dirt leading into the tunnel. Even so, Dean pushed the overgrown vines aside and traveled into the dark, wet tunnel. Just like the first time he wound up in here, heavy droplets of water plopped onto his head, making him jump at the cool trickled going down his neck. The entire place just screamed " _uncomfortable_."

Dean stopped as he heard a horrible sound being echoed through the tunnel. He slowly reached for his flint in his pocket, striking it against his ring after pulling out a miniature torch from his belt. The small fire illuminated his radius, creating eerie shadows on the walls. The terrible moaning came again, and Dean went on further in search of it. Not too far onwards did he have to travel before he found the source; a large, black shape was slumped against the wall, whimpering and crying with the sound of absolute pain. Dean bent down next to the animal, blood seeping out of its broken, patchy body. He recognized her immediately despite her now completely torn off ear and broken bones jutting out of what was once her ribcage. "Weren't built to last, eh girl?" Dean said, a sad tone to his voice. He almost found himself crying- the poor monster never did anything to deserve this. Now she laid there, in the purest form of pain and almost begging for death. And he knew exactly who must of done this to her. Dean couldn't bear to see her like this. He glanced down at his belt and idea came to him that caused a blow to his chest. "Hey, I'm gonna try to make this as quick as possible, okay?" She gave another whimper of pain. Dean nodded, mostly to himself as a reassurance. Not looking, he reached for his blade placed in its sheath. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he raised the blade. She made no sound as he threw it down. But he knew she was finally at peace.

Dean didn't look back as he left her broken body in the tunnel. The exit was so close. He took off at a running pace, ignoring the watering of his eyes. Almost overwhelming light filled his eyes, despite the storm clouds that were now overhead. A drizzle was already falling from the sky as he dashed towards the looming tower ahead. He thought of calling for Cas, but just the possibility of Lucifer being with him made him decide otherwise. He never truly took in just how tall the structure actually was, taking a moment and tilting his neck as far as it could go to see the window of Cas' bedroom. Dean instinctively brought out two of his blades from his belt, shoving the sharpened tips into the cracks of the stone structure. The vines that Castiel had grown with his grace those three days ago had already withered, nothing more than brown, brittle threads stretching down from the window. Once again, the little white feathers were being blown away by the breeze in the now open land. Hell, a few of them were even caught in the vines. But none of this was making sense. Unless maybe Cas was trying to leave a trail? Maybe he just happened to find white feathers lying around? No, that couldn't be. The only white feathers in either of their possessions were...

_"It's one of the few molted feathers from the prince's first shedding. The queen died only hours later and not even the king knew what his true colors were, these were just the first..."_

_Cas_. Holy fucking shit, it was _Cas_.

Dean began to pick his knives into the stone bricks with so much force he couldn't believe he could muster at the moment. He was letting instinct alone drive him up the tower, his feet finding every foothold in the stone. The window was drawing nearer and nearer, and the closer he got the more eerie the silence coming from inside became. But he was so much closer to finding Cas, and that's all that mattered.

His hands finally reached the ledge of the window, and Dean threw himself through it with the last of his adrenaline-provided strength. He was panting as he looked up into the shadows. Little white feathers lead a trail to where he could see the angel tied up against the wall, nearly unconscious. He was practically screaming against the cloth suffocating his mouth. He could hear his own name being repeatedly shouted, Castiel's eyes wide with fear. He was screaming something else, something Dean couldn't understand. It didn't take long to realize it was a warning. Dean stood up, and as he did, the bleeding, rotten face of a horrifying man was all he could see. Then came a pain like no other to his abdomen, and he was being sent backwards onto the cold floor.

~~~

 _Dean! DEAN!_  
Castiel tried as hard as he could to shove the cloth away from his mouth, the skin of his wrists raw from the rope tying his hands together behind him. Absolute terror striked him as he watched Dean's body fall to the floor. He had a hand clutching his bleeding abdomen, and Castiel watched as Lucifer threw the stained knife across the room. "See what happens when you touch the outside world, Castiel?" Lucifer said quietly. Castiel tried flapping his wings to help his escape, but to no avail. But he couldn't let Lucifer win. Dean was so close, yet too far all the same. He just had to heal him, that is all. If he could just set himself free...

Lucifer bent down, grabbing his face which was now streaming with tears. "Now then, I think it's time to go." He said darkly. Castiel fought back with all the strength he could muster, throwing his wings at Lucifer to shove him away. His brother grabbed his wings, clamping them together, and began to cut at the rope he had tying Castiel to the wall. Then he dragged him across the floor, leading him to the staircase. Castiel continued to fight, forcing himself away from Lucifer despite the pain and exhaustion in his body. He slipped one of his feet away from his bindings, flapping his wings to catch enough air to stand. "Castiel! Stop fighting me!" Lucifer shouted aggressively. He reached at Castiel's face again, only grabbing at the cloth keeping him silent. The angel pulled backwards, ripping it off of his face at last.  
"No! No, I will not stop fighting you!" Castiel shouted, spreading his wings to their full span. "I will _never_ stop fighting you! Even if it _kills_ me!" At this point, his breaths were ragged, the amount of rage flooding his chest overwhelming.  "I should have started to rebel against you long ago! And look at what you've done to me!" Castiel pained a glance over at Dean, who was looking up at him in fear. "Look at what you've done to him!"  
"What I did-"  
"Don't even begin to try to correct your wrongdoing! After all these years, you...you have fucked with my head enough. Eighteen years and tonight...tonight, you're my little bitch." Lucifer almost seemed taken aback at Castiel's outburst. "You're going to take a step back, and you're going to let me help him. Because you let me regain eighteen years of pent up rage. So the outcome if of your own doing." Castiel growled.

Lucifer took a step forward, but Castiel stood his ground. "Fine, if that's how you want it to be." Another step forward. "Then I'll have to take control myself." An overwhelming pain screamed into Castiel's mind as Lucifer poured straight into his eyes. He grabbed at his hair, unable to make a sound as his grip of his surroundings left him.

~~~

He didn't know where he was. He couldn't feel his own presence, couldn't reach his surroundings. Time didn't pass. Just still silence.

Slowly and gradually, however, the blur of nonexistence gave way to a new atmosphere, one he felt comfortable in. The more he searched his memories, the more real this strange  illusion became.  From there came a floor under his feet, and worn down walls all around him, the wood rotten slightly and stains forming near the ceiling. He blinked only once, and there a bed formed with the wobbly nightstand and candles, the wax melted to stubs. He remembered the moment quite clearly, and a smile came to form on his face. His fingers skimmed lightly over the quilt lying on the surface of the bed. It all felt so real, down to the small threads straying from the pattern. A cool breeze ghosted over his wings through the cracked window, the drapes blowing gracefully. There was even the same creaking of the ancient floorboards beneath his feet. Then came the sleeping form lying under the blankets. Castiel took a step forward, testing this illusion around him. When he found walking was sufficient, he wandered over to the man, grinning widely at the sight. His eyelashes lay perfectly over his cheekbones. Freckles, so many freckles, were dispersed over his face and illuminated by the moonlight outside. Castiel cupped his face, his thumb brushing just below his eyelashes.

In a way, he felt comfort in watching over him. But wait... for a moment he almost forgot that this was all just a fantasy. And yet he could barely remember his true reality. Something was wrong, he knew that much, and yet everything felt at ease. Everything was perfect, just in this moment. So perfect that he didn't realize there was another presence in the room. When a hand landed on Castiel's shoulder, he instinctively spread his wings and whipped around, grabbing the hand by the wrist. The new presence looked shock at his reflexes. "He's taught you a lot," he said once the shock had worn off.  
"What is happening, Lucifer?" Castiel asked quietly, his voice low.  
"I should ask you the same, brother." He watched Lucifer's gaze, following it to Dean, who still slept peacefully. It was only then he heard the sound of a dog barking nearby. Brief images of her fate caused Castiel's illusion to flicker as though it were the candles on the nightstand. _Lucifer, please you don't have to_ \- He found himself gasping for air, horrified eyes and locked on Lucifer. The illusion around him broke only for a moment, revealing the dark surroundings of his bedroom in the present. He only caught a brief glance of Dean's eyes watching him fearfully. He was saying something quietly, desperately. His voice was broken in pain. "No, Cas _please_! Don't!" Then his illusion swept back around him, but no calm overcame him. Instead, a pulsating, splitting pain shot through his head, and whenever the angel looked his brother's way, it nearly blinded him as a stronger wave of agony brought him to his knees. He was screaming, but he couldn't hear a sound as his own blood seemed to flood his brain. Red, everything was _red_ and fading in and out between his illusion and reality, the fake walls around him disappearing and giving way to image of Dean, beaten up and bloody and begging for Castiel to stop. When did he become covered in blood? Why did he look so broken? He looked down at his own hands, which stayed the same no matter where he was standing. They held a knife within them, the wooden end drenched in scarlet. Horror overcame him. _Did...did he do this?_

Castiel couldn't control his actions. He was a puppet, realizing quickly that Lucifer was pulling the strings. The knife rose above his head, and Castiel was shaking internally but his face was stone cold, eyes dead and blank in the shattered mirror next to the trembling form of Dean. He had no doubt in his mind that the mirror was broken in their combat. Dean's words were mute to him as he rose a bleeding hand to him, but he could read the words quite clearly. He was pleading, begging him to stop. Castiel was screaming in his head, all alone and yet with his master controlling all he was doing right behind him, inside of him, and he couldn't stop the broken sobs that didn't appear externally. He didn't want to hurt Dean. He didn't want to kill him. And yet the voice in his head, Lucifer's voice, was screaming "do it, do it, _DO IT!"_

Then came a simple touch. It wasn't even to his person, but rather a hand clutching onto his now dirty coat. Ragged breaths came from his lungs, looking down at Dean's bruised and bleeding face, eyes shining and pleading for him. "Cas, _please_..." He heard him say, quiet and distant, but understandable. "It's _me_..." Dean thought he was gone. But he was right there! All he wanted was to be able to reach out to him, but right then his brother had a hold on his voice, forcing him to be silent. "We... we're..." Dean choked out. He was dying. Even he knew he was, and Castiel began to cry harder under his brother's restraints. "We're _family_ , Cas. Sammy...and I...we need you..." Dean paused for a moment, his eyes looking right into him. "I _need_ you...I l-"

The force held against him was broken. Castiel stopped, the blade in his hand now an obvious weight and he threw it to the floor. Collapsing to his knees, he fell right into Dean's arms, and he heard his name fall off of Dean's lips like a prayer. Castiel buried his face into Dean's chest, his hand reaching for the wound on Dean's stomach. He's going to heal him. Dean is going to be okay. He can escape. As long as he's okay, as long as he's alive, Castiel will be happy. Just knowing he's safe.

But he didn't see Dean's hand reach across the floor for something that gleaned in the dull sunlight.

~~~

"Say it again, Dean, _please_ ," he heard Castiel murmur. He almost didn't hear it, the sound of his heartbeat too loud in his failing body. And he was too focused on Lucifer, who had crashed to the floorboards, bleeding, and a faint blue light seemed to be evaporating from his wounds. Cas' grace. He just knew it. His heart shattered into a million pieces when he realized what the only solution was.  
"I love you," Dean whispered into Cas' ear. He just had to keep him calm. "I love you." Just keep him content. "I love you." He'll never know that anything is wrong. "I love you." He reached for the blade that had been tossed not to far from him. " _God,_ Cas _I love you_." His voice broke as he said it. The words came more frequently, more hushed, as he lifted the knife. "I love you, I love you, _I love you._ " He pressed a kiss behind Cas' ear. His heart rate increased as he watched Lucifer begin to stand, malevolence raging in his eyes. He repeated the words as many times as he needed to. The edge of the blade glared against the light when he held it at its proper angle. One last time. "I love you..." Then the sound of the blade ripping through flesh and crashing across the floor as it slipped out of his hand. He heard a gasp from the angel, and he stroked a hand down his back as his fallen wings paled. From ebony to a charcoal grey, then the color stilled at white, drenched in deep red. He could feel Cas' blood slip between his fingers just beneath his shoulder blades.  
" _Dean_..."

Dean watched Lucifer with wide eyes as his face went still. A small, broken sound of pain escaped Cas' lips, and Dean held him closer to him. "Its okay, Cas, it'll be okay..." He was horrified at the sight of Cas' brother, unable to move from his position on the floor. His flesh slowly began to darken around his open wounds, the holes torn into his skin widening and rotting away. Dean shushed Castiel as he tried to turn and look. "Shhh, don't turn around," he said quietly. Lucifer tried to scream, to crawl over to Dean where he lie slumped against the wall. A weakened, skinless hand reached out to him, sharp bone trying to claw at his skin. Dean didn't move even as he tried to come closer. All he had to do was keep Cas calm, despite everything happening all at once. "It's going to be okay, Cas," he said, his voice raspy and broken. He could feel his own heartbeat increase rapidly, panic overwhelming him. He's not going to die. Not now, not with Cas. They were so close. _They were so close_... Lucifer stilled. His face was beyond decay, and Dean was ever so content that Cas didn't have to see this. An unearthly sound erupted from what was left of Lucifer's throat as his flesh seemed to burn like a flame, his eyes hollowed and illuminating with the light escaping from his body. Dean shielded his eyes then, unable to bear any more of the sight. The sound died out, and when he removed his arm shielding his face, he found there to be nothing left but ashes.

It was over. Cas was _free_. They could finally be _happy_...  
His heart increased. _No, not like this_ , Dean thought. "It's okay, Cas..." He said, smiling but his voice breaking nonetheless. "It's..."  
His throat constricted. He couldn't breathe, but he didn't try to reach for more.  
His body shook slightly, almost twitching, but forced himself still.  
Not with Cas, he can't do this to Cas.  
Anything but this.  
He was almost begging to no one.  
Anything at all.  
Just not _this_.

It almost pained him to see Cas looking over him expectantly. But it wouldn't for long.

~~~

Realization hit him more quickly than he had expected. It was all when he couldn't hear the unsteady beating of Dean's heart, or the arms surrounding him, holding him tightly, went slack, that he knew. But what hurt him the most was that Dean's last words, no matter how much intent, were _wrong_.

Castiel slipped from Dean's arms, cupping his face, almost as if he were to open his eyes any moment now. Silently, he pleaded that he would, the pain in his chest and the sick tightness of his stomach worse than any of the sharp, physical pains in his shoulder blades. He's not dead. He'll wake up, just give it time. He's... "It's going to be okay," Castiel cried, his throat tight as he choked down tears. "It'll be okay..." He threw himself onto Dean's limp, lifeless body, burying his face in the crook of his neck, waiting for his arms to embrace him, for his hands to rest perfectly in the space between his wings. But his wings were gone, and those hands will never hold him again. "Dean..." He sobbed.

He didn't care that he was being soaked with blood, both Dean's and his own. Nor did he care for the tears drenching Dean's collarbone, seemingly never-ending. He cried out, Dean's name echoing through the empty room, down the halls. Heavy rain drummed against the rooftop, cold droplets slipping through the empty window.

Even without sunlight, Castiel could see how Dean's eyelashes lie perfectly over his cheekbones, how his freckles contrast with his tanned skin. He remembered how they looked against the pure sunlight. How his brilliant green eyes would lighten in the early morning sun, and how the corners would crinkle whenever he smiled. That _beautiful_ smile. And in only moments it was taken from him.

Castiel brought himself back, looking down at Dean's peaceful expression. Only minutes ago- or possibly hours, or seconds- he knew it had been painful for him to simply breathe, and the calm look in his features only made his longing and desperation more intense. Castiel held Dean's head in his hand, bringing him closer. His other hand brushed against his face, fingertips on his forehead and thumb rubbing by his closed eye. He could have fixed this. He could have healed him, it would have only taken a second. In only once second, his grace could have spread throughout his body, could have saved him. But no more.

Slowly, he brought Dean closer while bending down, brushing his lips against his forehead as he left his hand on the side of his face. Castiel left his kiss on Dean for as long as he could, the flow of tears slowing but not stopping. He brought his hand off his face, instead leaving it on Dean's still chest, as if hoping his heart would begin to beat.  
And that's when he felt it.  
One beat. Just one. A few moments later, there was another. Castiel pulled himself back, and he noticed Dean's mark, barely visible under his torn sleeve but still noticeable. The red print's color almost illuminated, like fire burning in the dark. Another beat came from his chest. He's alive. The mark is keeping him alive. All he'd have to do is find help, and he'd be fine, right? He could find Rowena, since she helped him when he was attacked by the vampires. Or...or is Dean too far gone to save? And besides, without his grace, he'll have no way of escaping the tower. Oh god...he could _die_. With no way to contact the outside world, Castiel could run out of resources to sustain himself. If that was the case, then...what was even the point?

With his nerves reaching their peak, Castiel turned back to Dean's still beating heart, trying to find a distraction. He buried his face into Dean's chest, ignoring the increased rate of his own heart along with the new flow of tears taking on not too long after the last. Dean was alive. Just not enough. "Please, Dean..." He whispered, " _please_ , tell me you can hear me... give me at least that." There was a still moment of silence where all that could be heard was the rain drumming against the roof, the storm lifting outside. "I _need_ you..." Then Castiel felt another beating of his heart, and the mark on Dean's arm began to glow even brighter. Although now, the light wasn't red, it was _blue_. Castiel watched, eyes wide as the light traveled through his veins, spreading slowly at first then illuminating his skin rapidly as it went on. It eventually stopped, the wide wound in his abdomen seaming together with the white ribbons of light. Dean's heart rate began to rise under Castiel's hand as his chest began to swell with the air filling his lungs. Castiel jumped back as Dean gasped for air, the sound breaking the silence. Dean began to cough out the thick blood caught in his throat, smoky wisps of the angel's grace thinning into the air from his mouth. Castiel slowly placed his sleeve over Dean's mouth, cleaning the red liquid off. Dean's eyes sparkled with life when he saw him, his lips now slightly parted and forming into a smile.  
"Cas..." Castiel's face broke into a wide smile, laughter bubbling in his throat.  
"Dean!" The angel threw his arms around Dean's neck, the two of them crashing onto the floor. Castiel couldn't stop smiling, his eyes still shining with tears. He continuously pressed kisses onto Dean's neck, then his jawline, then Dean guided him lazily towards his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, with no pace whatsoever, but neither of them cared. Dean was looking as though he had trouble thinking about anything, and Castiel was too overwhelmed to think at all.

It wasn't until Dean's hand traced up his back that Castiel remembered the pain. He hissed at the touch and Dean immediately retreated. "Shh, hold on, Cas," Dean said, his voice quiet and hoarse. He slipped Castiel's coat off of his shoulders, wincing at the bloody sight of broken feathers still attached to the angel's back. "Oh, god I'm so sorry..." Castiel gently cupped Dean's face with his hand.  
"Don't be, I'll be fine." Dean looked back into his eyes, green meeting blue. He leaned forward, placing his lips against Castiel's. Before he knew it, Dean stood up, sweeping Castiel from his feet, supporting him perfectly in his arms. He began to carry him towards the stairway. "Where are we going?" Castiel asked quietly. Dean smiled down at him.  
"Home."


	16. Epilogue

Home wasn't their first stop after all.

The roads rocked the carriage slightly with the uneven paving, but Castiel supposed he shouldn't complain. Instead, he stared lazily out the window, watching the trees and the flowers roll by. It had been a whole three years. Three years since the beginning of his entire life, since the fall and his capture, and his freedom from his brother. Most importantly, today marked an entire three years since he met Dean.

The carriage shook again just as he pulled out the pocket watch connected to his belt, the chain rattling as he did so. He stared at the small note clipped inside, perfectly scripted in Dean's handwriting. It wasn't too long since Castiel had left Germany to continue heading into France where Dean would be waiting for him. Castiel sighed, placing the watch back into his pocket and leaning against the plush seat, watching the scenery outside.

It really was all a bit much. His family was responsible for holding the wedding in Paris, including the lacy white suit he was currently wearing and the posh carriage. He feared the wedding itself would be even more extravagant, if it were possible. All he wanted was for his and Dean's bond to become official, and the whole plan seemed unnecessary. Dean seemed to think the same. Their previous letters to one another had expressed their thoughts quite well, and apparently the ceremony already being set in Paris was everything Castiel had feared it would be: posh, upscale, and all too much.

Still, he couldn't despise the fact that his family, or what was left of it, had planned this for him themselves. And though he didn't have some single memory of them, he almost wished his parents would be there as well. He already had known that his mother died during his birth- which he will never not feel guilty and responsible for- but the news he received of his father had struck him harshly as well. His aunt, Amara, was the one who gave it to him. Dean had taken him to the castle, and there was an entire celebration for his return. Apparently, it hadn't been too long before he had returned that his father, King Charles, had fallen sick and perished. All that was left of the royal family were Amara, his brothers Michael, Gabriel, and Balthazar, his sisters Anael and Hannah, and himself.

But now wasn't the time to think about any of that. He hadn't felt this much anxiety since- well, since three years ago. Somehow, Dean had always managed to keep him sane. It was like Dean was his personal nicotine, making him numb to fear and his own mind. Now that he was nowhere in sight, however, all of those emotions came flooding back.

 

Some time later, the coachman alerted Castiel that they had crossed the border into France, and relief swept over him. He's been counting down the hours the entire time he was inside the confined little carriage. He didn't care that everyone else had told him that it was actually quite spacious; it was a closed in bubble that he couldn't escape from for several hours and it was just so _small_.

From beside him came a small, high sound. Looking down, he almost completely forgot about the Persian cat sitting next to him, her pure white fur blending into the velvet seating. He smiled as he stroked his hand over her back, Lucy purring and closing her crystal blue eyes as he did so.

He hadn't gotten her too long ago. It was when he and Dean had traced back the origin of the Hell Hound, which still caused pain whenever Castiel thought of her. She had belonged to none other than Rowena's own son, Crowley. From him is where the two of them discovered the entire truth of Lucifer's backstory. It was true that he had once been a prince, even had a higher status than Castiel himself, and had been banished for corrupt control over the kingdom back in Germany. He had been an angel as well, but met the same fate as Castiel. Wingless, graceless, and dying, he went to the ex-king Crowley, hiding away under spells in his own corner of the world. From there he found his fix to sustain himself, meddling with dark magic and working for Crowley in order to stay alive. He had done this for uncountable years. Then Castiel was born. Motherless and the kingdom already crumbling under King Charles' power, Lucifer had kidnapped Castiel, using his rare abilities gifted by his passed mother as a stronger, more sufficient technique to keep himself alive. And well, Castiel knew the rest of the story from there.

What the two hadn't known, however, was that Dean had been tied into the story as well. Along with Crowley, a man named Cain worked alongside him, dealing with spells for those who had crawled at the bottom with no other hope. Dean's father, John, went to Cain and paid a heavy price for the mark now on Dean's arm, all because he wanted to live successfully with their family business. That, however, had proven insufficient with John's demise, leaving Sam and Dean on their own with not even a penny to their name.

Although, that didn't seem to matter now that he knew that Dean was waiting for him, happy with how everything had turned out. Castiel smiled as he stared out the window, watching as the towns they passed grew larger and stately the closer they came to Paris. Even Lucy, who had been quite silent and still this entire ride, hopped up on Castiel's lap just to paw at the window. Some of the townspeople stopped along the streets and watched the carriage go by, a few children even waving shyly and Castiel waved back. His anxiety had begun to spike as they reached nearer to Paris, but seeing the welcoming faces gave him solace during the whole situation.

The carriage slowed and came to a stop as the coachman announced that they had arrived. Castiel had suddenly felt more nervous than he had since Dean had come into his life, even more so than when he had left his tower for the first time. Taking a deep breath, he took Lucy in his arms and stepped out of the carriage, the door held open for him. He was pleased to see Clara, the little girl from the village, waiting for him beside the carriage, beaming. She took Lucy from him before he wrapped her in his arms, kneeling down to reach her height. "Daddy!" Castiel looked up to see Amelia running up to him not too far behind Clara, her bright red hair all over the place. She threw her arms around Castiel's neck, giggling as she did so.

Only a few months ago, the two little girls were living in the orphanage in the village. Castiel hadn't known that when he met them, but a few more encounters later after his return did he receive the news. Almost instantly, he went to the orphanage and took them in as his own. The only issue was that he hadn't told Dean beforehand. Besides that, Dean welcomed them into their lives quite easily.

After their embrace, Amelia and Clara led Castiel to where the wedding was being held, Lucy meowing softly in Clara's arms. Then came Gabriel, one of his brothers that he had grown particularly close to, despite their polar opposite personalities. "Cassie!" He called from a distance. He jogged up to him, obviously not caring for his expensive attire.  
"Gabriel," Castiel responded, "how have you been?"  
"Just waiting on you. You should see how this whole thing's set up, it's _gigantic_."  
"Oh, no..."Castiel groaned, running a hand through his hair.  
"What's wrong?"  
"This is _exactly_ what I've been fearing."  
"Oh, come on, you'll like it when you see it!"  
"Will I, though?" Gabriel shrugged.  
"Well, I _guess_..." Castiel stopped listening at that. He shouldn't take advice from someone who takes events such as this into favor.

Even just across the bridge, the atmosphere set for the ceremony could be the seen and heard. The bridge was laced with several vines and flowers, and loud music coming from elegant instruments were being played on a stage. Castiel stopped, feeling a blush burning his cheeks as he covered his face, overwhelmed. "Castiel?" He heard a woman say. Looking up, he saw his sister's deep red hair braided on her shoulder, it too decorated with tiny yellow flowers. "Are you alright?" She asked.  
"Yes, Anael, I'm fine," he replied, forcing a smile.  
"Please, Castiel?" Just looking into her bright, shining eyes made him sigh, giving in. His answer had never strayed from the truth, and Anna seemed to understand. She embraced him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and led him across the area to prepare for the wedding.

~~~

"Dammit, why can't we just get this over with?" Sam adjusted his brother's suit once more in front of the mirror.  
"Quit complaining, Dean. Just a month ago you wouldn't shut up about it."  
"Ok, but _this_?" He gestured at the full suit he was wearing, itching and uncomfortable in all the wrong places. "This is too far."  
"Come on, you know how much this means to Cas." Dean ignored his brother, turning back to the mirror. Of course he knew what this meant to Cas. At this point, he was pretty sure the whole world knew. The word did spread fairly quickly across Germany, then to Paris, and who knows where else. But what the world didn't know was that the entire ceremony was completely unnecessary. He and Cas had already been married for nearly three years, ever since the light show. Dean proposed, and dammit, he meant it. It was the same ritual his mother and father had done, secretly, something just between the two of them. That's all that they had wanted, and that's all he and Cas wanted.

Yet here he was, with his younger brother with his hands all over in his hair, "perfecting" it for what feels like the fiftieth time for the past ten minutes. Dean had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.

~~~

Castiel couldn't stop himself from wondering what his already-husband was doing, even as Anael obsessed with dolling him up in lace and wreaths and purposefully (not to mention poorly) hiding the wing decorations in the corner of the room. Even as Lucy demanded his attention in his lap, nudging him and meowing persistently, he couldn't seem to focus. Anael was currently placing more flowers into the crown she had prepared while at the same time measuring lace to add to his coat, as if there wasn't enough already. The entire coat might as well have been made of the decoration; it hung on the mannequin across the room, the same one making Castiel feel as if it were going to start moving or blink at him, causing him to shift awkwardly in front of the vanity. The white clothing was just like his tan coat back in his home, tight fitting around the arms and torso, but loose at the tail that hung around past his knees. But this one, as Anael insisted, gradually became more intricate with lace as it fanned out at the tail, decorated with finely knitted flowers. It looked incredibly feminine, but Castiel had actually become fond of it almost the second it was introduced.

"I may be finished with this," Anael said, interrupting his thoughts. She came across the room with a halo of colorful flowers, ranging from white to blue to purple, with all shades in between.  
"How difficult was that to make?" Castiel asked. Anael shrugged.  
"Not... _too_ difficult." Castiel raised an eyebrow. Her shrug dropped in a sigh.  
"Okay, so maybe I had to call in a few orders for flowers, it's not too big of a deal."  
"A _few_?" Anael turned back to her work, answering his question with no words needed.

~~~

From outside, Dean could hear Charlie and Jo help prepare food for the wedding. He was pretty sure anyone within the fifty mile radius could hear them. "Do we have (insert item here)," with an equally loud response shouted back from across the room, or a swear being thrown out because someone forgot something. Dean's personal favorite was one one of the two were caught eating the food that was brought ("we were just testing it!") and Sam had to finally stop fiddling with Dean's hair or suit or whatever-the-fuck-it-is and chase them down. They had to actually wait until Dean calmed down from laughing too hard in order to continue. Dean almost encouraged them to go on fucking around with everything. The girls were always up for it, to his amusement.

~~~

The bells came too soon, striking Castiel with his pent up fear. He couldn't think straight, couldn't move, just standing frozen behind the door. He needed fresh air, but the only supply was outside the door, where the ceremony was being held. He jumped at Anael's touch, then settling his shoulder under her hand. "You'll be fine, Castiel."  
"I can't do this," he said under his breath. Anael must have heard, because he was then being pulled down into her arms, her white feathered wings wrapping around him.  
"I'll take you to him. Will that be alright?" Castiel's eyes stared forward for a moment, before nodding slowly against her shoulder. He stepped back, a smile on her face and her eyes sparkling even more so than usual.  
"Alright then. Let's go." She shuffled her wing behind his back and took his hand, opening the door before he could change his mind.

Once he stepped outside, he couldn't tell whether he was more or less afraid of the situation. Everything seemed so much more extravagant and gigantic now that he was finally stepping foot on the aisle. He took a deep breath, casting his eyes down when he realized that everyone had their own eyes on him. Anael gripped his hand just a bit tighter, looking to him with a smile. He gave a half smile in return, but it did nothing to calm him down. Every single person there was watching him, and he wished he could ask them to stop, even if he did know over half of them there. Even his little girls standing towards the front were beaming at him. He decided to stay focused on them, when he suddenly remembered the one standing at the top of the stairs. Castiel began to smile at the sight of Sam shaking his head slightly at his brother, and then he noticed Dean's appearance. What he was wearing was simple, and nothing at all like what it was supposed to be. The suit he wore was a simply pressed, black and ehatvhe supposed could be velvet , but it was still unlikely. All of the expensive decorations, including the frills and shoulder pads, were obviously ripped off last minute, and despite him looking slightly disheveled, Castiel loved it even more. Anael had actually needed to pick up her pace he began to walk twice as fast down the aisle and, before he knew it, he was taking the steps next to Dean. He absolutely beamed once he took the last step, looking towards Castiel and then back at Sam, who apparently had brushed the grimace aside.

The next few minutes were a blur. Apparently Dean had forgotten his vows the instant he had seen Castiel, and so had Castiel himself. Their words were a mess, and so was the audience, so it seemed. Gabriel had taken up the opportunity to be the wedding officiant, with the occasional roll of his eyes when he read the especially sappy lines in his script. Castiel was still too nervous to even take it to heart.

The words "I do" slipped off Castiel's tongue without any thought to them. Despite no thought, they were filled with more emotion than he thought he could muster. He was up on his toes not a moment later, Dean's hands on his hips and Castiel's arms thrown over Dean's shoulders, their lips crashing behind the angel's arms. His mind was so cluttered, he could barely keep his train of thought straight.

  
_Oh my god_  
 _We're here_  
 _We made it_

  
Castiel almost didn't want to part from him, but he took a single step backwards and looked up at his husband. Dean's hand cupped his jawline, the ring on his finger warming on his skin. Dean's eyes poured into his, and Castiel knew that if his wings were still attached to his back, they'd be hiding the two of them under their black, messy feathers. But he didn't need his wings to show Dean how he felt. He knew the man felt exactly the same way as he pressed his lips back against Castiel's.

~~~

Dean just about had to kick the door open to simply enter the room with Castiel in his arms. The angel had been blushing so hard and covering his face, Dean could have sworn he was reacting to a fever or something. He wasn't quite sure if the non-stop actual giggling helped his case or not. Cas had his arms wrapped around Dean's neck as they entered the bedroom, his face buried in Dean's neck so he could actually feel his laughing, and god dammit it felt amazing.

He practically tossed Cas onto the mattress, flopping down next to him. He stared into Cas' eyes with a smile on his face, and the angel turned over to lie an arm over Dean's torso. Which eventually led to Cas laying right on top of him, smiling against his jawline and pressing kiss after kiss along it. Dean could feel his warm hands trail under his shirt- the suit discarded long ago- reaching up to his chest. The small kisses against his neck evolved into something deeper, and he could feel teeth gliding against his skin. Cas was basically giving kitten licks on his skin, and Dean erupted with a laugh. Castiel made a pleased sound in response and continued on. Dean took the sides of the angel's face and guiding his mouth to his own, their lips moving in sync as Dean unbuttoned Cas' dress shirt. He slid the lacy white coat off of Cas' shoulders before taking his shirt and tossing that aside as well. Dean slipped his tongue against Cas' teeth before his lips parted, allowing Dean inside. He smiled with satisfaction as Cas began to undo his shirt as well.

Within a few minutes their clothes were discarded somewhere along the room, their hands never leaving each other's bodies. Dean looked up at Castiel- his pupils were blown, his plush, pink lips parted with his tongue slipping over his top lip. Damn, Dean made a good catch with this one. His hands trailed up Cas' back and neck until he took handfuls of dark, wavy short hair and pulled him lightly down onto him. He could feel Cas' lips back on his neck, sucking at skin and Dean could practically see the mark left there already. A small moan escaped his lips as Cas' tongue darted out onto his skin. Dean's hand slid down lower on Castiel's back until he splayed his fingers over his ass, feeling the sound from Castiel's mouth on his neck. Just as Dean thought to play around with his fingers, Cas sat back up and stared down at him, despite deep in his eyes. "Not yet, Dean," he growled. Dean's heart practically slipped a beat, a heat swelling in his chest. Fuck, he was so whipped. He watched as Cas' hand reached for something on the bedside table, but never did his eyes leave his angel's face. Cas sat back up straight with the lubricant in his hand, the thick liquid slipping onto his fingers and causing Dean's mouth to go dry. Castiel backed up and off of him, then lifted Dean's legs- with incredible strength, Jesus Christ- over his shoulders, his skillful hands tracing the lube over Dean's hole. Dean stayed still and hardly patient the entire time. Over the last year, he'd honestly become used to Cas taking control of him, and sweet Jesus it's the hottest thing, in his opinion. He barely had time to make another thought before a slick finger was being pressed into him. A filthy moan started in Dean's throat, his head falling backwards as his eyes closed tight. Cas started knuckle deep inside of Dean before pulling out and adding another finger, each time Dean making a loud sound uncontrollably. When the third finger hit Dean's prostate, he was surprised he hadn't thrown his entire body up off the bed. "Cas," he moaned," fuck, Cas, please..." Cas stopped, looking down at him. Slowly, he removed his fingers from Dean's hole. He shifted on his knees, hovering over Dean and lining himself up with his body. Cas rested his forehead against Dean's, his breathing steady against his lips.  
"Are you sure?" He breathed the question. Dean bit his lip, nodding as Castiel teased his nipple with his thumb. The angel began to rut against Dean's thigh, his dick hard and precome leaking onto his leg, before he went to align himself. Dean could feel his cock against his loosened hole, pressing into him and releasing a breathy moan from Dean's lips. Cas eased his way in, his head tipping backwards, closing his eyes. Slow at first, he rocked inside of Dean, a small but audible grunt coming from him each time as he did so. "Dean..." he groaned. His grip on Dean's shoulders tightened. The sound of his name on Cas' lips never lost its little spark, no matter how many times they did this. Deep arousal seemed to explode in Dean's head as he closed his eyes, taking everything it. Cas' cock hit Dean's prostate again and again, causing his vision to go blank with white sparks floating around in his brain. He had no control over the whines that escaped from his lips.  
"Cas...Cas, I-" he made another moan as he felt his orgasm build. "I'm gon- fuck, Cas..." he bit down on his lip and threw his head back on the pillow as his orgasm climaxed, releasing all over his stomach. Castiel continued to thrust into him, riding out his own orgasm just seconds after Dean's.  
"Ah, oh god...Dean..." he groaned, his voice low. Dean stroked his arm, guiding him to lie down. Castiel collapsed onto Dean, his breathing uneven against Dean's neck, obviously not caring for the mess they had just made all over themselves.

Dean's hand glided over Cas' back, gentle over the scars left on his shoulder blades. He could remember how much of a bitch it must have been to remove them completely. But now was not the time to think about that. Hell, this might be the happiest he'd ever been, and right here, right now, he was going to savor it.

~~~

He felt Dean move from underneath him. Castiel lifted his head to see him giving a small smile to him, his hand still massaging his shoulder blades. "I'm gonna be right back, I gotta clean us up." Castiel rested his forehead against his as he lied back down.  
"Do you have to?" Dean laughed quietly.  
"I don't know about you, but I'd rather clean this up while it isn't all dried up and gross." He leaned up slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on Castiel's lips. The angel could feel a warm comfort swell in his chest, and he rolled over on the bed.

Sleep overcame him almost instantly to the sound of Dean stepping out of the room. The only thing Castiel could remember before falling asleep was the warm cloth over his chest and stomach and the press of plush lips against the side of his face.

_So this is what home feels like._

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave feedback!


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